Across the Terrace
by crapazoidwtf
Summary: Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel saw one another by coincidence, across the way on one another's apartment terrace. Both have people in their lives they need to get rid of. One knows which person needs to go; the other has no clue. It is an AU!Klaine with Rocker!Blaine and Stalked!Kurt (Smut in later chapters)
1. First Sight

Author's Note: So I'm guessing everyone was expecting an update for 'Hear Me Now.' So sorry! This story popped into my head and would not leave me alone.

Muh bad. Anyways, haha! New fic called 'Across the Terrace.' It has sexy rocker!Blaine. Huh? Huh!

An AU!Future!Klaine where Blaine and Kurt never met before, Kurt never went to Dalton, and their lives have taken turns down paths they never thought they'd go. The first chapter demanded to be written, so hope it's good.

The cover image is by the lovely ladyxmarauder on deviant art. :) Thanks for letting me use the picture for this story!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee or any of it's character's. I'm not affiliated with anybody nor will I make any profit from this story. I own absolutely nothing and am just humoring my own insanity. Everything belongs to Ryan Murphy, Glee, Fox and anyone else that has patent over Glee and it's characters. I don't know or own the actors that portray these characters. Everything belongs to Ryan Murphy, Glee, Fox and anyone else that has patent over Glee and it's characters. I don't own any songs that may be used in this story nor do I have any affiliation with the bands/writers who own them. Hope I covered everything I don't own.

~C.

* * *

(Chapter 1)

"Goodbye, Rachel."

"And remember to water the plants."

"I said goodbye, Rachel."

"And don't forget to lock the door at night."

"For heaven's sakes Rachel! You guys are like this close to missing your flight!"

Rachel pouted at being interrupted and Kurt just ran a hand over his face. "Rachel, I'll be fine, your apartment will be fine, all of New York will be fine without you in it for a little while. What won't be fine is your newly wedded husband, my brother mind you, if you guys end up missing your flight."

When Rachel looked back up at Kurt, she sighed, "I know, I know. I'm just…I'm just so excited. I'm also nervous and happy. But I'm worried…Kurt, this is a whole new chapter for me. After everything, to be at this point, it's surreal." She sighed dreamily.

Kurt chuckled fondly at his exasperating friend. "Yea, yea. Your guys' love is sickeningly beautiful." Then his eyes grew soft. "I really am happy for you, you know? You were always like a sister to me. We'd fight, we'd cry, we'd get attracted to the same boys…" He chuckled when she hit his arm playfully. "Now I get to call you my sister. My loudmouthed, diva of a control freak sister."

"Aww…I love you too." She hugged her new brother-in-law tightly. "And who knows? Maybe after spending a week or two back in New York will convince you to move back here. I miss rooming with my best gay."

Kurt rolled his eyes when they pulled back, "Oh don't go on about all that again. I just want you to concentrate on having fun on your honeymoon. Please? For me?"

"All right. All right. I'll go off and be happily married before I come back and continue taking Broadway by storm." She gave Kurt one last tight hug.

"Racheeeeeel, the cab driver already has ten dollars on the meter from just waiting for us. Are you ready to leave yet?" Finn whined as he appeared in the doorway.

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Yes, yes, I'm coming. Now you have the number for our hotel, for Puck, emergencies, and all that."

"Yea, because Puck just loves lady chats." Kurt said sarcastically.

Rachel just continued on, "Don't use the hot water after midnight or the pipes will make that weird grinding sound and then Mrs. Tracey from 9E will get all up in your business about it."

"Are you leaving yet?"

"Rachel, Kurt's 23 years old. As much as I think of him as my younger brother, he is grown. He's not our kid." Finn shuddered at the thought of that twisted image. Kurt scrunched up his nose in equal discontentment for that.

"Oh, and if you DO want to find your self a little entertainment; maybe a deliciously, hunky New Yorker to play around in the sheets with?"

"Ugh…Rachel, that's my brother. TMI." Finn shuffled uncomfortably.

"Anyways, you could always check out Finn and Puck's club. Puck said he won't even charge you for drinks, but your 'boy-toys' got to pay." Rachel said using quotation marks with her fingers.

Finn seemed to brighten at the mention of his and his best friend's surprisingly, successful club. "Yeah, dude! 'The Pinn Up' has been awesome lately. Normally we have a DJ, or sometimes Open Mic Night, or every once in a while a band plays, and then we have theme nights. It's cool because everyone's welcome. No discrimination, you know?"

Kurt chuckled at his eagerness. Running a hand through his hair, he said, "Okay, I'll think about it. Now get out of here! You have a plane to catch and I have crappy TV to watch. Go!"

This seemed to finally get the couple into action, Rachel pecked Kurt on the cheek while Finn gave him a warm, brotherly hug and then they were out the door. Kurt shut the door and leaned back against it with a loud breath of relief.

Finn and Rachel had just gotten married yesterday. Now, they were off to Maui for a luxurious, honeymoon getaway. Rachel was taking time off from her Broadway career and Finn left Puck to handle all the stuff with the club. Why was Kurt apartment sitting for them? Honestly, Kurt was only doing it because Rachel refused to go away unless Kurt agreed to freeload in her apartment for the duration of their absence. No matter what reason she claimed, Kurt knew it was just an elaborate scheme to get him to move back to New York.

Kurt sighed as he pushed off the door.

_Might as well get familiar with the place, right?_

He did all the things a person in their new surroundings does. He snooped. Well, he tried to at least. There was a kitchen with an unused stove, an empty refrigerator aside from energy drinks, and cupboards full of Finn's junk food.

_Next._

There was a living room with a three-person couch, decent sized plasma, and way too many photos of Finn and Rachel…but mostly Rachel.

_Next._

A bathroom before he got the bedroom.

_Boring, next._

One bedroom with a king sized bed, a dresser, a closet, and a window…a window with a fire escape.

_Huh, potential interest there._

Kurt walked over to the window and peered through it. Oh, he got a perfect view of the brick apartment building right across the wide, dark alleyway. Just what he wanted, to peer into some old couple's bedroom, or some horny New Yorker's love nest.

_NOT!_

Despite himself, Kurt opened the window and secured it with a ruler that had been conveniently placed there.

_Guess Finn and/or Rachel occasionally ventured outside as well._

Once that was done, Kurt maneuvered his leg out onto the fire escape, ducked his head in order for it to pop out on the other side, and slid his remaining leg out from the apartment.

When he was upright on the metal landing, Kurt smiled. Right in front of the window, Kurt might have a view of someone else's apartment, but to the left of him he could see a portion of the city lights of New York City. He walked over to the farthest left portion of the metal landing, the stairs were on the right portion of the landing, and leant on the railing in front of him. The city lights illuminated his pale features and a wide smile that showed off his teeth graced his face. No matter how long he stayed away from the city, it would always have a special place in his heart.

_I can't deny the beauty of this city._

Kurt closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. No matter the pollution, dumpster smells, or slight tang of urine from the alleyway; Kurt couldn't help but love every aspect of this city. Good and bad. He didn't know how long he stayed there; just admiring the city he had rediscovered after two years of being away. However, when he heard a disturbance below him, probably the drunken late nights stumbling out of their cabs; he decided to call it a night.

He pushed off the railing and wandered back over to the window. Just as he sat down and was about to pivot, something caught his eye. Well, someone. It seemed the mystery inhabitant of the bedroom he currently had a view of had made an appearance, a sexy appearance.

_Holy crap._

The man of the adjacent apartment across the alleyway was currently jabbing his fists into a black punching bag. Unlike Kurt's waist high window, the mystery man had a longer window that probably sat a foot off the floor. So Kurt had a nice view of the gentleman currently pummeling the bag hanging from his ceiling.

The man was in a muscle shirt, wind pants, and tennis shoes. Even from the ways off, Kurt could see the man had dark curls that bounced with every side step he made, tanned or olive skin from his currently exposed flesh, and toned muscles that rippled under his taunt skin. Kurt had to gulp as the light from the stranger's bedroom highlighted the beads of sweat that dripped down the unknown man's neck and arms.

_This is kind of turning me on._

Suddenly, the man put his fists down and started gradually turning towards the window.

_Oh shit!_

Kurt ducked back into Rachel and Finn's apartment. On the way in, he unceremoniously thumped his head on the window seal and fell into the apartment with a thud. Rubbing at the knot quickly forming on his forehead, he scrambled to hide under the window. Now, he didn't make it a habit of peering into unknown males bedrooms, so forgive him if he didn't want to be labeled as a pervert on his first visit back to New York.

_I should have just gone to bed._

After a few moments, Kurt peered back out of his window and the sight before him sent a flush of warm heat throughout his body. The man was currently rubbing the bottom end of his muscle shirt across his presumably sweaty forehead. This gave Kurt a perfect view of his toned abdominal muscles, pecks and beginnings of a sexy 'V' leading into his pants. Whoa, was that chest hair lightly dusted across his upper body too?

_And there's a happy trail skating over his abs._

_Yea…now I need a cold shower._

* * *

"What the fuck, Sebastian?! Get out of my apartment!" Blaine yelled. The musician had unlocked his home to discover that the one person he hated seeing was lounging on his living room couch with that cocky smirk on his face.

"Come now Blaine, you don't mean all that. If you really wanted to keep me out, you would have found a better hiding place for your spare key." The unwanted companion held up the apartment key between two long, slender fingers. He flicked the key towards the frustrated man, who in turn snatched it out of the air.

"I'll keep that in mind. Now get out, before I throw you out." Blaine all but growled.

Sebastian didn't seem to take the hostility very well, because in a few strides he was off the couch, across the living room, and in Blaine's small hallway right up in his face. "You know, after all I've done for you and your little band, you should be a whole lot nicer to me. If it hadn't of been for my father's connections, your sad excuse for a band would have never made it out of Westerville. You get me?" Then his stare became predatory as he pressed himself up against the shorter male. Blaine felt his skin physically scream out in protest at the other man's touch. "You're lucky killer. Being sex on a stick and Mr. Teenage Dream has gotten you farther than most."

Blaine huffed, "Your father may have helped us get started in this town, but we've kept ourselves up since then. We've paid him back for his 'generosity;' so neither the band, nor I, owes you or him a damn thing." Blaine pressed his face up close to Sebastian's, their noses centimeters apart. "You don't scare me, Sebastian. You never have. Even when we dated you couldn't stand the fact that unlike everyone else, I refused to become wrapped around your little finger. So like I said earlier, get the fuck out."

The taller boy pushed past Blaine in frustration and strode towards the door. However, before he left he turned back to speak. "You know you can't resist me, Blaine Anderson. No matter how much you claim to hate me, I can still make you scream out my name in fucking ecstasy. You can have as many trysts as you want, but they'll never compare to me. I'm the best you'll ever get. The sooner you get that through your thick skull, the better your life will be." With that said, he left.

Blaine slammed his door and locked it tight to ensure that no more unwelcomed people barged into his home. He didn't even unpack the bag left by the front door. The steaming man headed straight to his bedroom and opened his dresser. Blaine stripped out of his day clothes and changed into some work out gear.

_**Fucking Sebastian…why can't the guy just take a fucking hint already?**_

He pulled on his wind pants, sneakers, and a white muscle shirt. Wandering over to the punching bag hanging from his ceiling, he began to place himself facing away from his open window. The movements of the outside world normally threw him off. However, something brilliant caught his gaze.

Turning to look out of his almost body length window, he was graced with a beautiful sight. One of the most gorgeous men Blaine had ever seen was leaning across an adjacent fire escape. There was a radiant smile on his face; his porcelain looking skin was lit up stunningly by the city lights playing off his features and chestnut, brown hair danced with the slight breeze blowing his way. Blaine felt his lips part slightly in awe as the man closed his eyes and let his other senses absorb the city itself.

From what Blaine could see, the man was wearing white, calf-high, lace-up boots, black jeans, and a white, short-sleeved, button-up. How was Blaine able to tell all this from across the alleyway? Well, he was openly admiring the handsome man who was wearing deliciously form-fitting clothes. They caused Blaine's imagination to run into really guttural places.

_**I wonder if every part of his skin looks that flawless.**_

Blaine found himself smiling; it's been a good while since any man had sparked such a warm feeling in him. Normally, he's always surrounded by horny groupies (male and female) or is just completely smothered by one specifically unwanted person.

_**You can have as many trysts as you want.**_

_**They'll never compare to me.**_

_**I'm the best you'll ever get.**_

The tanned man was shaken from his gawking by the frustrating voice ringing out in his head. His previous ferocity was once again renewed and he tore his eyes away from calming image outside. His hands balled into fists as he remembered how infuriating the privileged ex-schoolboy was. Apparently, being denied something is a foreign concept to that spoiled, rich bitch…erm…brat. He meant brat.

_**I can't believe I ever found your arrogance sexy.**_

Blaine's fists barreled down on the poor, abused bag. He struck, punch, and hit the punching bag with unrelenting abandon. It was no secret that the face he was thinking of pummeling was one that belonged to the infamous Sebastian Smythe. The man who believed that a person's only worth was the one he bestowed upon them. Therefore, according to Sebastian, Blaine was only worth the amount of sex he was willing to put out for Sebastian. Needless to say, Blaine had serious issues with being someone's sex toy.

By this point, Blaine was sweating and his muscles burned from the amount of sudden exertion he forced them to go through. Panting tiredly, he gingerly turned back around to try and see if the amazing looking man was still out on the fire escape. However, to his disappointment, he found the dark fire escape to be abandoned. Sighing to himself, he lifted up the bottom of his muscle shirt to wipe at the dripping perspiration from his forehead.

_**I know what I am worth, Sebastian.**_

_**Even if it isn't much, it's still far more than you could ever deserve.**_

* * *

A/N: Eeep! So what do you think about this new story? Does it peek your interest? Should I continue? Should I just scrap this and go back to just working on 'Hear Me Now' ? Let me know by reviewing, PMing, alerting and favoriting...but mostly by reviewing, kay? ;)


	2. Bang

Author's note: Hey everyone! Thanks for checking out this story and letting me know you want me to continue! :D It means a lot and you all are lovely! :)

So this is a shorter chapter, why? I don't know, but I will warn you ***WARNING*** that this chapter is...not smutty...maybe sexy? You be the judge, I just thought I'd put it out there.

No beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.

* * *

(Chapter 2)

Kurt put his hands above his head and danced seductively to the music pumping throughout 'The Pinn Up.' It seemed they had a DJ tonight. On those nights, the tables and chairs were stored in the back of club while the shiny, white, dance floor was clear for people to move on. From the middle of the dance floor, Kurt was able to see all four sides of the club. Two adjacent sides of the club had booths aligning the walls for reserved parties that night. Then the other two adjacent sides had the bar on one end and the stage with the DJ set up on the other. Barstools sat in front of the bar while bottles of different types of booze sat on the shelves behind the bar. The lights were dimmed low in the club while a few different colored beams of lights played across the entire interior of the building.

The young man was currently wearing dark-blue skinny jeans, black lace-up boots, and a blood red V-neck. His hair was messy from him running his fingers through it all night as he danced. He didn't know what compelled him to actually let loose and have some fun that night, but he certainly wasn't regretting it. The club was bumping and there were a good amount of people dancing on the linoleum floor. Kurt had a few shots thrumming through his system and the beats of Ke$ha's 'Dirty Love' were currently vibrating throughout his body. He could feel someone's eyes on him, watching every gyration of his hips and sensual roll of his shoulders. Kurt knew exactly who was watching him; he loved every second of it.

_You've been watching me all night._

_Why don't you put your damn hands on me already!?_

Suddenly, Kurt feels strong hands grab his hips from behind and a hard body press up against his back. The fingers curled around his hips and he could feel the guy's fingertips rubbing at the waistline of his jeans. Hot breath tickled his pale ear as a voice said, "Why do I get the feeling you were teasing me?"

Kurt smiled; his hands slowly dropped from their position in the air and came down to gently run his long, pale fingers through the soft, black curls he knew sat atop the stranger's head. "Maybe because I was?"

The man behind him hummed. "Let me guess, you just want my dirty love." After saying that, the guy behind Kurt accentuated his guess by grinding himself into Kurt's ass.

Kurt gasped at the brazenness, but he couldn't deny how hot it got him to know that the guy he saw boxing the other night wanted HIM this bad. "You have no idea."

The curly-haired man chuckled, "That's good, because I saw you watching me the other night. I knew you were watching me beat the crap out of my punching bag."

By this point, Kurt could feel something digging into his ass. It was long, hard, and hot; Kurt was pretty sure this wasn't the type of guy who kept a roll of quarters in his front pocket.

"You liked seeing me get all sweaty. Especially when I turned around and showed you exactly what you wanted. Me; all revved up and raring to go. I bet you liked that, didn't you?" He husked into Kurt's ear. The hands on his hips slid down to his upper thighs and squeezed. The two of them weren't even bothering to keep their moves in time with the music. Not that anyone really took notice of the two young men.

Kurt whimpered in response, his already tight jeans becoming impossibly tighter as they now contained his half hard cock. All the attempts of witty articulation seemed impossible for Kurt to perform in front of the man who was currently trying to seduce him. He ground his ass back into the guy's rigidly hard cock, enjoying the guttural groan the other let out in response. One of Kurt's hands snaked down from their spot in the black curls and dipped into the unknown man's collared shirt. The pale hand caressed the spot between the other's shoulder blades as the other hand fisted a handful of curly locks.

The man massaging Kurt's thighs chuckled breathily. "God, you're so hot in these jeans and that shirt; you wanted to get my attention. You shouldn't have hid that night. You should have just come over. I know you wanted to; you wanted to get in between my sheets."

Even with his now fully erect cock, Kurt managed to snort at the second Ke$ha reference. "Do you use dirty lyrics on all the guys you meet?"

The paler young man chocked on his last word when lips traced up and down the pulse point on his neck. Then those same lips came back to smile into the shell of his ear, "Only the ones I plan on introducing to my bed."

That's it; Kurt was gone. He was fucking gone. One of the man's hands came to caress one of his inner thighs as the other decided to grow bold, well…bolder, and slip under Kurt's shirt. The hand splayed out against Kurt's taunt, alabaster stomach and pressed his torso impossibly closer to the guy minutely grinding into his jean-clad ass. Kurt's hand dropped from its position in the other's hair in order to drop down and grip one of the stranger's strong thighs. "Well, you know what they say." Kurt forced out with some difficulty. "Pornos produce it." Oh look, some wit right there.

"Are you telling me you're the wild child that can do it better?" Kurt swore he felt the guy's dick twitch against him in consideration. "Mmm…I think you need to tell me exactly what you mean. Tell me before I push you down into one of those booths and have my way with you…in front of everybody."

When the hand under Kurt's shirt shifted higher so the pad of one of his thumbs could flick across one of Kurt's nipples, the paler young man moaned in pleasure. He closed his eyes and dropped his head back to rest on the other man's shoulder. Now, his lips were under one of the other's ears as he panted out the next sentence. "What I'm saying is…I just want your fucking filthy love."

The curly-haired man growled. "Oh yeah? And who exactly am I giving my filthy love to?"

Kurt groaned, in frustration this time. How is it, after all that, the concept of names never crossed his mind? "You can call me, Kurt." Kurt's hand, the one that was still inside the other man's shirt, scraped its nails up his back to his neck. "So tell me, who am I getting some filthy love from?"

A deep chuckle rumbled in the other's torso. Kurt was able to feel it as the other's muscular chest moved with every laugh. "Bang."

Kurt's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "Bang?"

***BANG***

Kurt bolted upright when the loud noise jolted him from his sleep. Looking around the bedroom blearily, Kurt rubbed at his eyes as he tried to get his breathing under control.

_What the?_

Getting out of bed, the first thing Kurt did was pad over to the living room. He listened and scrutinized everything in the room. When he was satisfied nothing seemed out of place he glanced into the kitchen.

_Nothing odd in here._

He made his way over to the front door and checked the locks. The chain was still latched and the locked doorknob wasn't jimmied.

_I'm being ridiculous; no one broke in._

…

_I'm going to stick this wooden chair under the knob, just in case._

_Rachel WOULD go away on a vacation and come home to find her place robbed._

_It's just her kind of luck._

Content with his inspection, Kurt made his way back to the bedroom. He went over to the window with the fire escape outside it. Kurt saw that it was no longer night, but the sky still had a sleepy, blue hue to it. It must have still been the early hours of the morning.

_Then what on earth was that noise?_

When Kurt stepped back a bit, he got his answer. His foot stepped on the thick, wooden ruler. He must have forgotten to close the window after his little show from the neighbor.

_It HAD to be while I was dreaming of Mr. Hottie Boxer over there._

Looking down at himself, Kurt observed the wet spot that had been slowly forming on the front of his boxers from what used to be his erect member. Being scared awake kind of wilts an erection, you know?

_Stupid window._

* * *

A/N: Hah! How'd you like that lyrical dirty talk? Not explicit, but this is only the beginning. ;) Anyways, did you like the dream? Let me know. :D Review?


	3. Empty

Author's note: Hey everyone! Just dropping by to leave you another chapter! This is seriously a filler background chapter. Next chapter we are back to Kurt and Blaine! :D

In this one, there might be some misconceptions going on about the music business. Do I know anything about the music business? No, but let's just pretend for the sake of this fic that whatever is said is true in this verse about the music industry.

Song explanation:

**(Nick and Jeff)** (Parentheses/Bold)

**Blaine** (Bold)

Hope you like it and it makes sense! Let me know if it doesn't!

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.

* * *

(Chapter 3)

_**Dude, where are all your piercings?**_

_**Did you take them out, again?**_

_**Why is your hair gelled down?**_

_**Well, at least he isn't in capris.**_

_**Wes, I thought you threw out all his suspenders! You missed a pair!**_

Those were the words that his band mates had greeted him with and those words were also swirling around in his head as the poor musician wiped at his teary eyes. Blaine sniffed as he washed the gel out of his hair. He didn't like his curly hair loose and bouncing everywhere, but that's how it had to be. Whenever he was Blaine, lead singer of 'Pav's Last Song,' he had to have the whole bad-boy, rocker image in full effect. That meant, no bowties, no suspenders, no polo shirts, no capris, no loafers, and absolutely no gel.

_**Get it together man!**_

_**This isn't Warbler practice anymore.**_

After washing out his raspberry, hair gel, Blaine tried to pat down his fluffy hair with some paper towels. He sighed when it didn't look like it would cooperate with him. Looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, Blaine grimaced. He had his left eyebrow pierced, his tongue pierced, and an industrial bar piercing through his right ear. He never wanted this; he never wanted this image. When he was at home or going out without his band mates around, he made sure none of those pieces of jewelry were anywhere on his head. However, whenever he was involved with anything to do with the band, he had to wear them. According to Wes, it gave him more of a grunge look. But Blaine drew the line at tattoos. Those were permanent…and they hurt!

_**My mother would say I look like a deviant.**_

For practice today, he wore a solid, purple T-shirt, skinny blue jeans, and black vans (his suspenders had been confiscated by Wes). It wasn't like the clothing he and the band wore to maintain their image was heinous; he just liked his own taste in clothing too. What was wrong with suspenders and bowties, or obnoxiously colorful pants that matched your sunglasses?

"Blaine, you ready to prac…" Trent trailed off as he barged into the studio's bathroom. "Blaine? Are you all right?"

Blaine wiped at his eyes quickly and gave his friend a practiced smile. "Yeah, just got…gel…in my eye." As if trying to prove his point, he grabbed one of the paper towels and dabbed at his eyes. "Hehe see? Clumsy me."

Trent looked at his friend for a minute, and then he shrugged. "If you say so. Come on, Wes and David are going at it again. You need to break it up so we can practice."

Blaine frowned, did no one really care that the image for their band was fake? Was everyone really so focused on becoming 'rock stars' that they were willing to compromise who they really were and the type of music they actually cared for?

_**Warblers…what have we become?**_

Blaine followed Trent out of the bathroom, and sure enough, there they were. Wes (the band's image consultant) and David (the band's manager) were glaring at each other. Jeff (the band's lead guitarist/back-up vocalist) was sitting cross-legged on the floor and sipping a juice box as he watched the two guys argue with one another. Nick (the band's bassist/back-up vocalist) was randomly plucking strings on his bass as he waited for the two arguers to shut the hell up already. Trent (the band's drummer) bit his lip as he looked over at Blaine nervously, his eyes pleading for Blaine to get their friends to stop fighting.

Blaine rolled his eyes, "Hey! Wes, David, what's the problem now?"

Both guys stopped their arguing and turned to Blaine. The curly-haired boy narrowed his eyes when he noticed his two friends had shifted their eyes back to one another, silently asking if they should inform Blaine about what their little tiff was about.

_**Oh great, this can't be about me again!**_

"Wes…what?" Blaine gritted out. He seriously hated when they made decisions about him without even informing him, which actually happens more often than he'd like.

"All right, before you say no to this, hear us out." David began.

_**I already don't like this.**_

"The band should wear eyeliner…ow! David!" Wes glared at the manager who slapped his arm.

David glared back, "You don't just blurt out something like that!"

Blaine's jaw dropped. "Please, tell me you're joking!"

Wes sighed, "Look, it's just something new to try out. I've been researching some new looks and a fair few have started using eyeliner. It's very tasteful and really helps draw attention to a performer's face. Sebastian thinks it's a good…"

Blaine's eyes darkened, "Excuse you? I thought we were done taking performance advice from that prick."

Jeff tilted his head at Blaine, "No, YOU were done with Sebastian. Just because you guys had a falling out, doesn't mean we all did. So far, his and his dad's ideas have helped us get to where we are. We can't just cut him off, he was our friend before he was ever your boyfriend."

Blaine's eyebrow twitched. "You call him cheating on me a falling out?"

Nick scoffed, "Dude, why the fuck does it matter anymore? It was high school; no one cares what happened in high school." Nick sat up from the couch he had been laying on, "And hasn't he made up for all that? We live in swanky apartments, we get to play music for money, and we have people fawning over us. We may only play locally, but if you get over your little grudge with Smythe, I bet we can get his dad to book us in bigger venues. Can't you just make up and go back to banging each other again?"

"I did forgive him, the first time. Then the second time I realized monotonous relationships were non-existent in his world." Blaine forced out. It still hurt to remember that Sebastian cheated on him, twice. He was not interested in being cheated on a third time.

David narrowed his eyes at Nick, "Hey! I do my best!"

_**They've stopped listening to me, haven't they?**_

"Can we please stop fighting?! This is turning into a Kangaroo Court all over again!" Trent pleaded.

Jeff looked puzzled, "I never know what that means."

Nick rolled his eyes, "Jeff, NO ONE knows what that means."

_**Oh yeah, I'm just here for decoration.**_

Blaine placed his hands over his face and rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes. He tried to block out his friends bickering at each other. Why did they have to follow anyone's trend in the first place? Why couldn't they just be who they were? Well, if they were to try and make it as anything other than this alternative type band, apparently they wouldn't make it very far. The music business already had great solo artists, they had enough boy bands; they had enough people knocking down their doors claiming to be the next great thing. Their best bet would be to try making it as a powerhouse, rock group, not a cheesy, boy band. In any case, that's what Sebastian's father had told them, but what made him such an expert on the subject anyways?

_**Doing something for the love of it shouldn't make me feel this…empty.**_

When Blaine lowered his hands, he realized the five other people in the room were staring at him. "Nice of you to join us again, Blaine. We all took a vote while you were…meditating…or whatever that was you were doing." Wes stated.

The miserable musician frowned. "Oh."

Wes smiled proudly, "It's been decided. For our next performance, you'll be wearing eyeliner. If it bodes over well with the crowd, then we'll keep it. Right?"

"Don't care." Nick quipped.

"I think it's a reasonable compromise for the group." David placated.

"Sounds like fun!" Jeff said, a smile on his face.

Trent looked sheepish, "Can't you just try it, Blaine? Please?"

Blaine looked around at his friends, anxiously awaiting his answer. Every time an aspect of himself was stripped from him, something would break inside Blaine. Slowly, he's been bent and twisted into becoming whatever 'Pav's Last Song' needed him to be. It was like he was supposed to be thankful for the chiseling his being has taken; parts of himself were chipped away over the years when all he wanted to do was scream for it to stop. However, his friends were counting on him to try and help make the group as successful as it could be. They chose him to be the one to help them get to the big time. It was like Dalton all over again. His friends trusted him to take them where they needed to go. They could have easily chosen Sebastian or anyone else for that matter, but they didn't; everyone had faith in Blaine. How could he even think about letting them down?

The singer put a hand on Trent's shoulder and set up his façade once again. "Sure, we're in this together. Let's just finish up our practice, okay? How about afterwards we all go out for a night on the town, huh? We haven't done that in months."

"Nope, gotta plan your outfits for the next gig." Wes said distractedly.

"I have a business meeting with the owner of this bar I'm trying to get you guys a gig at." David announced, looking smugly over at Nick.

"I have a date!" Jeff bounced in his seated position on the floor.

"I just don't want to." Nick said, not even looking at Blaine.

"Um…sorry, parents want to have dinner. Another time?" Trent said sadly.

Blaine's fake smile never faltered. It was a hollow smile that never reached his cheeks, and yet, it was one he was used to gracing his features. He walked over to his microphone stand and looked at his band mates. "That's cool. No big. Ready to practice?"

The three other members glanced at each other warily before gingerly making their way over to their respective instruments. Wes and David pulled up chairs to play the part of the audience. "What song do you want to warm-up with?"

"Can we warm-up with a Katy Perry or a P!nk song, maybe? Just once?" Blaine asked, like he always did. He knew he'd get the same answer.

David shook his head, "That's pop music. You know we don't play that."

"Come on Blaine, stop messing around. We're trying to get the set-list ready for our next performance. Just pick something reasonable to sing; whatever you choose you end up nailing anyways." Wes chastised, and yet complimented at the same time. Blaine never understood how he could do that.

Blaine ran a hand through his bushy hair. "Whatever you say. Nick, Jeff, start off 'Playing God' from Paramore, please."

Jeff saluted him, "All righty then."

Nick gave a half-hearted thumbs up.

In the next instant, Blaine heard the instrumentals start. Not only that, but he heard David whisper to Wes, "What's with his fetish for singing songs by female artists?" However, Blaine ignored them. He instead chose to close his eyes and let the music flow around him.

**Can't make my own decisions**

**Or make any with precision**

**Well maybe you should tie me up**

**So I don't go where you don't want me**

Blaine opened his eyes and sang the lyrics with the same amount of passion he would with any song. His eyes trained on the two 'audience' members.

**You say that I've been changing**

**that I'm not just simply aging**

**Yeah how could that be logical?**

**Just keep on cramming ideas down my throat**

**Wo-oh-ho-oh**

There was one thing about Blaine that had yet to be changed or taken away from him. Even if he couldn't SAY what he feeling, he always knew how to express his feelings through song.

**You don't have to believe me**

**But the way I, way I see it**

**Next time you point a finger**

**I might have to bend it back**

**Or break it, break it off**

**Next time you point a finger**

**I'll point you to the mirror**

David was looking at Blaine and then scribbling some notes down on his notepad. No doubt critiquing the band's performance so it could be discussed after their warm-up was over.

**If God's the game you're playing**

**Well we must get more acquainted**

**Because it has to be so lonely**

**To be the only one who's holy**

Wes had stood up a minute or so ago, now he was walking in a semi-circle around the band. He was looking at their placement, the effectiveness of their outfits, and probably calculating in the added effectiveness of the impending, unnecessary eyeliner.

**It's just my humble opinion**

**But it's one that I believe in**

**You don't deserve a point of view**

**If the only thing you see is you**

**Wo-oh-ho-oh**

Blaine sent a glare towards the overly observant Wes, pent up anger burning behind his hazel-eyes from constantly bottling up his emotions. Wes didn't seem to notice.

**You don't have to believe me**

**But the way I, way I see it**

**Next time you point a finger**

**I might have to bend it back**

**Or break it, break it off**

**Next time you point a finger**

**I'll point you to the mirror**

During the instrumental break, when Blaine closed his eyes once again to bop his head back and forth to the beat, Trent shared a look with Jeff. Out of everyone involved with 'Pav's Last Song,' Jeff and Trent were the only ones who were aware of the fact that Blaine was miserable. Unlike the other three, who were either completely oblivious or just didn't care; Jeff and Trent recognized the choice of song for what it really was. An extension for how Blaine was currently feeling at that moment.

**This is the last second chance**

**(I'll point you to the mirror)**

**I'm half as good as it gets**

**(I'll point you to the mirror)**

**I'm on both sides of the fence**

**(I'll point you to the mirror)**

**Without a hint of regret**

**I'll hold you to it**

When Blaine opened his eyes again, Wes stopped in his tracks. He looked back over at David, who had an equal look of disbelief on his face, and the two had one of their silent conversations.

**I know you don't believe me**

**But the way I, way I see it**

**Next time you point a finger**

**I might have to bend it back**

**Or break it, break it off**

**Next time you point a finger**

**I'll point you to the mirror**

The manager and the consultant had looks on their faces that showed they were impressed. Blaine had a spark of hope ignite in him. Were they finally getting the message?

**I know you won't believe me**

**But the way I, way I see it**

**Next time you point a finger**

**I might have to bend it back**

**Or break it, break it off**

**Next time you point a finger**

**I'll point you to the mirror**

When the song ended, Wes and David stood up to clap respectively. Blaine felt something in him fluff up happily.

_**Maybe they will understand.**_

_**Maybe they DO see what all these pretenses are doing to me.**_

Blaine opened his mouth to say something, but David beat him to it. "Now, THAT was a performance. I mean, you're a great singer Blaine, don't get me wrong, but the passion behind that song was phenomenal! Who knew you could act?"

_**Act?**_

_**Wh-what are they talking about?**_

Wes smiled amused, "It was good. In the middle of the song, I personally thought you went a little overboard with the emotion. Then again, people pay to see a show."

_**They don't get it; they still don't get it.**_

"When did you learn to cry on command like that?" David asked.

Blaine snapped his head up, "C-cry?"

Wes rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, we're all impressed. Just don't do it for the next performance. I don't want your eyeliner to get all runny."

He wasn't even paying attention to his friends around him anymore. Blaine was still trying to process what his manager had said.

_**Crying?**_

_**I'm…crying?**_

Reaching his hand up, Blaine wiped the tips of his fingers across his cheekbone. Sure enough, his fingertips were wet with tears. Blaine was stunned; he hadn't even felt his eyes get watery or noticed his vision blurring. Had he been bottling his emotions up for so long that now they've begun spilling out without his permission?

A hand on his shoulder made him look up with wide eyes, "Hey, you okay?" Jeff inquired.

Blaine's automatic response, "Of course."

_**Not in the least.**_

* * *

A/N: That song was "Playing God" by Paramore. One of my faves. Aww poor Blainers, sometimes peer pressure is a hard thing to resist. Please review and let me know what you think. ;)


	4. Undapperness

Author's Note: Wow! Seriously happy you guys are enjoying this story. Thank you for every one of your alerts, favorites, and reviews! You. Are. Awesome.

...I have nothing more to say, other than me being sleep deprived at the moment and therefore a little insane.

Oh, well, never mind me. Just enjoy this next chapter! :D

No beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.

* * *

(Chapter 4)

Kurt peeked out his window and smiled in satisfaction when he saw the sun shining over the beautiful New York City. Making mischievous shifty eyes, he opened the window, secured the ruler, and stepped out onto the fire escape. He was dressed in yoga pants, a black muscle-shirt, and dance sneakers. Kurt had left his dance leotard at home, not expecting to have the sudden urge to do what he was about to do. His iPod was strapped to his forearm and the buds in his ears; ready for the use Kurt was about to put them to.

_Why do I feel the need to do this every so often?_

Looking over at the apartment adjacent from Rachel's, he actually frowned when he found the apartment to be dark from the lack of occupancy at the moment.

_Unlike me, the dude actually lives here; he probably has a life._

_Jeez Kurt, calm down; you never even met the guy._

Kurt shook his head of those thoughts and climbed the fire escape up onto the rooftop. He was allowed to do that, right? He passed up two other people's terrace-like platforms before he finally reached the stairs that led straight up to the roof. Kurt's sneaker covered feet plopped onto the concrete roof. He couldn't help but smile at the sight he saw. There was an adorable little greenhouse on the farther side of the rooftop, next to it was a water tower, and then there was a small structure that stuck up out of the roof where he assumed the door for the proper entrance to the rooftop actually was. However, the rest of the roof was open; like his own personal dance area.

_Now I see why Rachel fought so hard for an apartment in this building._

The pale young man walked over to the edge of the building and looked out over the city. The bright sun warmed his porcelain skin and a light breeze caressed his exposed forearms. The city was loud, it was bustling, it was different; it was his kind of city. Spinning on his heel, he skipped over to the area he deemed fit for his little burst of spontaneity. Kurt actually laughed when he looked down at the floor and realized there was dance powder scattered around on the concrete.

_Wow, Rachel really made herself at home up here._

Kurt wasted no time in getting into the fourth position with his arms stretched out at their appropriate angles. His right leg gave one powerful push, and just like that, Kurt was doing a pirouette.

_Damn, just like riding a bike._

His leg curled around him during the spin and then stuck out to catch him as his pirouette came to an end. The smile that graced his face was one of pure joy. No matter how awful he had started out in dancing; whatever he learned was retained and perfected in a very Kurt Hummel manner.

_Booty Camp ain't got nothin' on me now!_

Picking up his arm, Kurt searched through his iPod for an appropriate song that he could really let go to. Would it be Lady Gaga, Madonna, or Mrs. Brittany Spears this fine day?

_No…Beyoncé, she calls to me!_

Looking over his surplus of Beyoncé songs, Kurt was ever so tempted to play his signature song, 'Single Ladies.' However, another song peeked his interest a tad more. It was…pretty damn appropriate, plus he knew the moves to that song as well. Why not, right? Kurt pushed play and when the popping beat filled his ears, he closed his eyes in order to submerse himself completely into the song.

**Turn the lights on!**

Kurt started popping his hips from side to side when Beyoncé started singing in his ears, his own voice echoing across the rooftops, but not loud enough for the people on the ground to hear him. Then he turned to the side, placed a hand on hip, and swayed his pelvis sensually.

**Every night I rush to my bed**

**With hopes that maybe I'll get a chance to see you when I close my eyes**

**I'm going outta my head**

**Lost in a fairytale**

**Can you hold my hands and be my guide?**

**Clouds filled with stars cover your skies**

**And I hope it rains**

**You're the perfect lullaby**

**What kind of dream is this?**

He raised a hand in the air and proceeded to step from side to side. Kurt bent back a little at the appropriate moment and glided his hand around his head gracefully. Then he snapped back upright and let his long fingers dance in front of him.

**You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare**

**Either way I, don't wanna wake up from you**

**Turn the lights on!**

**Sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare**

**Somebody pinch me, your loves too good to be true**

**Turn the lights on!**

Kurt put his arms up above his head, his hands clasped and his arms straight in the air. He ran his hands through his hair and down his body, gliding over his chest, his stomach, his hips, and finally his cloth-covered thighs.

**My guilty pleasure I ain't goin nowhere**

**Baby, long as you're here**

**I'll be floating on air cause you're my, you're my...**

**You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare**

**Either way I, don't wanna wake up from you**

Suddenly, Kurt's legs became shoulder width apart and his knees bent a little. His hips started popping and grinding around in a hard circle.

**Turn the lights on!**

_I don't care if it's a sweet dream or beautiful nightmare, just imagining those toned arms around me is fantasy enough for me._

**I mention you when I say my prayers**

**I wrap you around all of my thoughts**

**Boy, you're my temporary high**

**I wish that when I wake up you're there**

**To wrap your arms around me for real and tell me you'll stay by my side**

**Clouds filled with stars cover the skies**

**And I hope it rains**

**You're the perfect lullaby**

**What kind of dream is this?**

He clasped his hands together in mock prayer; he stepped to the side, flit a splayed hand across his taunt stomach and then pushed some of his chestnut hair out of his face. Kurt extended one hand and let it glide across the air like he was showing off a display. Both his hands grasped his knees and slowly pressed their way up his body. He cocked his hip out to one side and let one hand glide all the way up to the sky overhead.

**You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare**

**Either way I, don't wanna wake up from you**

**Turn the lights on!**

**Sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare**

**Somebody pinch me, your loves too good to be true**

**Turn the lights on!**

**My guilty pleasure I ain't goin nowhere**

**Baby, long as you're here**

**I'll be floating on air cause you're my, you're my...**

**You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare**

**Either way I, don't wanna wake up from you**

Kurt used both his hands to push his hair forward; then he had them behind his head as he snapped his head to the side and dipped his hips erotically. He bit his lip as he squeezed one of his thighs and used his other hand to clutch at his heart. His body popped as if it had been punched and then bent forward in a semblance of agony. One of Kurt's fists shot out in a punch before he bent to one side, his body in a perfect 'U' shape, and reached a hand up to the sky.

"Turn the lights…ahhh!"

Kurt fell on his butt; one of the buds popping out of his ears, music still blaring out of the speakers, when his eyes opened and he was graced with an individual leaning on the ladder. The person shook their head in amusement before flashing Kurt a cocky smirk.

"What the…PUCK?!"

* * *

When Blaine heard someone start to sing, he didn't know what he thought he would find as he went to investigate. After that horrible session with his band, he had thrown his guitar on his bed, climbed out his window, and sat on the stairs connecting the building's fire escapes. The frustrated boy hadn't even bothered to turn on his lights when he got home. He had just been lying back on the metal steps and staring at the clouds as they passed by overhead. Closing his eyes, he let the sounds of the city and fresh breeze from the outside clear his mind of his exasperated emotions. It was routine of him to come out and enjoy the night air or the warm day when a session with his 'friends' became too much for him to handle. Then suddenly, he heard…

"Turn the lights on!"

A voice had blown in with the next cool breeze and caressed Blaine's ears; it was…lyrical. His eyes snapped open and his body sat up ramrod straight. Listening for a brief moment, he realized that he didn't hear any accompanying background music. He looked around himself confused, but then his eyes landed on the apartment building across from his. HIS window, it was open. Realizing where the magical voice was coming from, and more importantly from whom, Blaine pulled himself up before he began running up the metal steps two at a time.

_**Don't tell me that guy not only looks angelic, but sings like one too.**_

Blaine heard the voice echoing across the city rooftops as he pulled himself up onto his own roof. He sat on the rooftop edge with his feet planted on the top step and his body facing the building across the alleyway. The curly-haired young man definitely hadn't expected his throat to go dry or a flare of heat rush through his body.

_**Well, maybe not as angelic as I initially thought.**_

The tanned boy examined the paler boy's toned arms as they flexed in the afternoon sun. Even from the ways off, he could see the young man's natural highlights shine in the warm sun as his body moved elegantly…LIMBERLY.

_**Oh the undapperness of my thoughts right now.**_

As the dancer belted out the lyrics to 'Sweet Dreams,' a choice Blaine certainly approved of, Blaine couldn't help but smile at the overwhelming passion the other showed. He was completely lost in the song, he was freaking OWNING the song, he was…

_**Oh my God, why are his hands rubbing himself up and down like that?**_

_**Yeah…those would be my tight pants getting even tighter.**_

Blaine tilted his head, thoroughly enjoying the plastered on pants (maybe yoga pants?) and the formfitting muscle-shirt that rode up every so often to give Blaine a peek of what hid underneath those clothes. Then suddenly, completely catching Blaine off guard, the other man shot his legs out, shoulder width apart, and started gyrating his hips around. The surprise was too much for Blaine; he fell backwards. His back slammed onto his concrete roof as his legs hung over the slightly protruding wall of the building's edge.

_**Nygh!**_

He had no words, verbal or otherwise, just hot arousal burning through his veins and an incessant hard-on scratching painfully against the metal zipper of his denim jeans. His breathing had taken on an erratic staccato and his skin felt hot to the touch. Sebastian's body didn't even have the ability to turn him into a pile of goo like the chestnut-haired boy's did and he'd seen a whole lot more of it than the flitting glimpses he was receiving at this moment. Seriously, he hadn't been this turned on since he first discovered the useful art of masturbation.

_**Please, don't explode in your pants like some teenager.**_

_**Have SOME dignity.**_

Blaine lifted his legs off the side of the building and decided to just peek his head over the small wall. His eyes blew lustfully as he observed the dancer once again pressing his hands up his trim figure. If Blaine had any blood in his head, upstairs head that is, he'd have been more thoroughly impressed with the guy's perfect execution of the choreography from the music video. Though, at this point, Blaine's thoughts were keener on guttural references than choreographic appraisal.

_**Holy crap, his ass…looks fantastic.**_

The onlooker had to bite into his knuckles to keep himself from moaning as the pale boy started to dip his sensually, graceful hips. Blaine thought he might have broken skin when he had to bite down harder because the other man had decided to grip his thighs and make a damn near pornographic face of ecstasy as he did so. The mesmerized boy never even registered the Mohawk wearing man as he climbed the metal stairs towards the dancing spectacle. His eyes glued to the way the paler man was bending his body into a 'U' shape and unknowingly showing Blaine just how fucking flexible he really was.

_**So deliciously bendy.**_

Blaine was snapped out of his mental fantasies when he heard the beautiful voice stop singing and instead let out a high-pitched yell.

_**Huh…what?**_

The curly-haired man narrowed his eyes as he finally registered the presence of a second person on the other rooftop.

"…PUCK?!"

That word was the only thing that had been loud enough to float across the space between the two buildings. He observed as the paler young man stood back up and crossed his arms over his chest as he awaited some sort of response from the surprise visitor. From the way he had exclaimed, Blaine could only assume he knew the other male. Though, the stance he took looked like one out of annoyance more than a warm-hearted hello.

_**I wonder if this counts as eavesdropping.**_

He watched as the guy with the Mohawk started speaking with the other male. The more he spoke, the more rigid the paler man's posture seemed to become.

_**Nah, it's not like I can actually hear what they're saying.**_

Finally, the pale boy's arms shot down by his sides and his hands turned into fists. He started speaking at the dude with the Mohawk in what looked like a very irritated fashion. The guy, who Blaine assumed was 'Puck,' turned around smugly and started descending the stairs.

"Yes, you are!" Puck shouted up as he approached his friend's open window.

"Puckerman, for the last time, no I am not and you can't make me!" The other shouted down at him.

"Hey, shut the hell up!" A random stranger yelled.

Puck shouted back, "Mind your own damn business!" Then he looked up to where the other male was following after him. "KURT, YOU ARE COMING TO 'THE PINN UP' TONIGHT WHETHER YOU WANT TO OR NOT! IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT CHICKENING OUT, I'LL THROW ALL YOUR DAMN LOTIONY CRAP DOWN THE DRAIN!"

_**Mmm…Kurt.**_

_**I like it.**_

The other boy, presumably Kurt, stood there stunned. His mouth was hanging open and his expression was one of pure disbelief. Then he snapped his mouth shut before shouting, "You! Wouldn't! Dare!"

Puck smiled evilly, "Try me!"

The smug man slipped into the apartment and Kurt was left there with an unreadable expression on his face. "I hate you, you know!"

After that ordeal, Blaine sat on the roof contemplating the information he 'accidentally' overheard. If they were talking about 'The Pinn Up' and that guy was referred to as Puck; then that means that was Noah Puckerman!

_**P-Puck? But he's…he's just…WHAT!?**_

Blaine had interacted with Puck a few times when he wanted to sing at the bar he and his much bigger friend owned. He seemed like a cool dude, plus anyone who sang on 'Open Mic Night' had to first sign up with one of the owners for a slot.

_**Wait…tonight is 'Open Mic Night.'**_

_**Tonight KURT is going to be at 'Open Mic Night.'**_

A slow smile started to stretch across the tanned boy's face.

_**I think I just found something to do tonight.**_

* * *

A/N: Baha oh gosh, I love Puck. That lovely excerpt was from Beyonce's 'Sweet Dreams.' I tried to describe the choreography from her music video, but if it made no sense at all than just please go watch it to find out what moves I attempted to describe Kurt performing. My bad if you're just like...whaaaaat? Anyways, please review. They make me smile & motivate me. ^-^


	5. Open Mic Night

Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thanks for all your reviews and alerts; they make me squee and smile. Don't know if I'll be able to update this weekend, so I got myself to get this chapter out right now. Hope you all like it! :)

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.

* * *

(Chapter 5)

Kurt sighed as he thumped his head against the bar countertop. "I hate you, Puckerman."

Puck chuckled as he cleaned one of his beer glasses. The ex-Titan was wearing a black muscle-shirt, dark jeans, and biker boots. He still had his short-cropped Mohawk. For a while he was rocking the shaved head look, but the Mohawk definitely boosted his bad boy factor. Plus the women who frequented his bar loved it; and Puckasaurus was all about pleasing the ladies. "Get over it. Rachel made me promise that I wouldn't leave you high and dry while you crashed at her pad. So, being the badass that I am, I was totally up for the challenge of getting you to have a good time."

Lifting his head up to give Puck a scrutinizing gaze, he narrowed his eyes at him, "Bull; what she got on you, Noah?"

Lifting his head up, Puck gave him a disgusted look. "Come on man, don't call me that here. Only my mother calls me that."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt let out a frustrated breath, "Puck. Rachel. Dirt. You. Spill."

Puck placed the glass under the bar and stared at Kurt dead in the eyes. For a minute or so, the staring contest continued. Kurt willing the other to crack while Puck was determined not to. Finally, one of them did break. "Fine. Rachel threatened to cut Finn off from getting any on their honeymoon."

Kurt's jaw dropped.

_The woman plays dirty._

_I kind of respect that._

"Mrs. Hudson plays hardball. I am both annoyed and impressed, while also slightly disturbed now that I know Finn is most likely having sex right now." Kurt shuddered at the imagery.

Puck shrugged, "Hey, Finn's my boy. The least I can do is guarantee him getting some on that fruity vacation of theirs. Even if it's with Rachel not anymore-Berry. That, my gay friend, is what a best man does."

Kurt glared daggers at his 'friend'; it wasn't that he was an anti-social person. He just didn't want to find a reason to stay in New York. Don't get him wrong; it was beautiful and he loved it there. However, sometimes where one is suppose to be and where one wants to be are two very different places. "So 'The Pinn Up' Open Mic Night is supposed to get me to do…what exactly? Sing?"

"No, I think I'm supposed to help you get laid." Puck deadpanned.

Kurt choked on a breath. "Excuse me?!" He squeaked.

Puck just laughed. "Oh my God, loosen the fuck up bro. Here, I'm going to mix you up a Puckerman Specialty. It never fails to get my girl of the night into a panties-dropping mood. But with you, I hope it at least bitch-slaps your buzz kill and gives you a whole other type of buzz." While he'd been talking, Puck had his back to Kurt as he crushed some ice, splashed various liquors into a glass, and mixed the frozen concoction together. When he turned back around and placed Kurt's drink in front of him, well drinks, he smirked at the bitch glare Kurt was giving him. "Take that shot of tequila before you start drinking this bad boy. Now, I got to go jump-start this little shindig. So shut up; drink this masterpiece; and live a little. Puck out."

Kurt stared at the frozen, yellow drink and the tequila shot in front of him with a look of disbelief. It was yellow with a red swirl spiraling through the crushed ice and a peach slice stuck on the rim. To be honest, it looked tempting, but Kurt wasn't sure if he was ready to give Puck the satisfaction. When the microphone started to squeak from being manhandled, Kurt turned around to look inquisitively at Noah on stage.

"Well, well, well, hello, hello, hello. And how is everyone doing this fine Thursday Night? Let me guess, we got us some NYADA students in the club tonight." Puck said into the microphone.

Some random girls screamed, "We love you, Puck!"

Kurt rolled his eyes when Puck smirked, "Of course you do."

_Horn dog._

As he listened to his former schoolmate talk, the glasz-eyed boy sighed while fiddling with a lose thread on his dark-blue, skinny jeans. Completed with a forest green V-neck and a black vest left to hang open casually. Kurt decided to take his tequila shot as he swung one of his black, converse high-tops back and forth from his spot atop one of the barstools. Puck was full of himself sometimes; Kurt actually NEEDED the shot if he was going to sit through Puck picking-up girls while on stage. Licking his lips of the remaining liquor, Kurt continued to pick at his clothes, effectively blocking out Puck's flirtations.

_Dammit, I can't believe I couldn't find my red shirt._

_Maybe I didn't actually bring it with me?_

_Ugh…which is a real shame because it looks awesome with these jeans._

"Okay!" Kurt's head shot up when he realized Puck was finally getting somewhere other than into a girl's pants. "Now, for our first Pinn Up performance of the night, you all have seen this little hobbit on stage before. Don't let his size fool you; it in no way affects his singing. I know, surprised me too." Puck chuckled, earning a few more chuckles from the audience. Unlike in Kurt's dream, on Open Mic Nights, tables and chairs are set up on the floor. The lights were dimmed, but not as dark as it would be during the clubbing nights. "Anyways, let's welcome back Devon 'No Last Name' Frodo!"

People in the audience started clapping and hollering encouragements as Puck exited the stage and a shorter, handsomer (at least in Kurt's opinion), young man stepped up onto the stage with an acoustic guitar in hand. He pulled up a stool and brought over the microphone stand so he could adjust the two microphones. One pointed at his guitar and the other was held at the right position for him to sing into.

"Haha…you're so funny Puck!" There was a beat of silence before the tanned boy stuck his tongue out in Puck's general direction. "Screw you, my name's not Frodo. And I'm not short…I'm fun-size." 'Devon' smiled wide when Puck just laughed from somewhere out in the crowd. The man on stage was wearing tan pants, dark-blue Sperry shoes, plus a long-sleeved shirt that was striped horizontally red and blue. His black hair was heavily gelled and the lights shining down on him overhead made his olive skin seem to glow.

_Wow, he's…really hot._

"Anyways, thanks again for letting me sing up here. It's one of the things I look forward to every week." He rubbed the back of his neck embarrassed. "Heh…well, this song that I'm gonna sing is one of my favorites and I'm sure it's one of yours too." 'Devon' smiled hesitantly one last time before he placed his fingers in the right positions on the guitar, and then he began strumming it. The tune that drifted throughout the club was familiar, to Kurt and to the other patrons scattered around the club.

**Days like this I want to drive away**

**Pack my bags and watch your shadow fade**

**You chewed me up and spit me out**

**Like I was poison in your mouth**

**You took my light; you drained me down**

**But that was then and this is now**

**Now look at me**

His acoustic version was slower and focused solely on the emotional meaning of the lyrics. The sultry voice that floated through the club was enough to make Kurt's entire body shudder. The pale young man found himself enraptured by the singer on stage, completely content with watching his facial expressions as he poured his very being into the performance and eyes riveted to the way his skilled fingers played the cords expertly.

**This is the part of me**

**That you're never gonna ever take away from me, no**

**This is the part of me**

**That you're never gonna ever take away from me, no**

**Throw your sticks and your stones; throw your bombs and your blows**

**But you're not gonna break my soul**

**This is the part of me**

**That you're never gonna ever take away from me, no**

The singer on stage opened his eyes and found himself looking for that specific person he knew was there. He saw girls, some guys as well, swooning over him while others gave him scrutinizing looks. No doubt NYADA students trying to convince themselves that they could out sing the tanned musician on stage any day.

**I just wanna throw my phone away**

**Find out who is really there for me**

**You ripped me off; your love was cheap**

**Was always tearing at the seams**

**I fell deep; you let me down**

**But that was then and this is now**

**Now look at me**

The beat had steadily picked up and when the last line was belted out, the two young men's eyes locked with one another. Kurt's own pair widened when he realized the bright eyes from their owner on stage were staring directly at him, unwavering. He couldn't tell what color they were from the distance that was between them, but that didn't stop his mind from trying to imagine what beautiful color they might be.

**This is the part of me**

**That you're never gonna ever take away from me, no**

**This is the part of me**

**That you're never gonna ever take away from me, no**

**Throw your sticks and your stones; throw your bombs and your blows**

**But you're not gonna break my soul**

**This is the part of me**

**That you're never gonna ever take away from me, no**

_Is he staring at me?_

_Holy crap, he's staring right freaking at me!_

Kurt felt his mouth go dry and, without tearing his eyes away from the gorgeous man on stage, blindly searched behind him for his drink. He actually bumped into someone else's elbow in his search. Mumbling out a distracted, "sorry," before he finally felt the cool glass that contained his Puckerman Specialty. He sipped it immediately, enjoying the cool, sweet taste of peach and strawberry exploding across his tongue. Though, he did wrinkle his nose when he registered a salty aftertaste to his sweet drink.

_Ugh, could have done without the added margarita salt Puck._

**Now look at me I'm sparkling**

**A firework, a dancing flame**

**You won't ever put me out again**

**I'm glowin', oh whoa**

**So you can keep the diamond ring**

**It don't mean nothing anyway**

**In fact you can keep everything yeah, yeah**

**Except for me**

When he sang that verse Kurt could see those happy, bright eyes turn dark and anguished. It was as if Kurt could see the unhealed wounds from heartbreak flit across his face as he remembered what must have been a broken relationship.

_He looks so…sad._

**This is the part of me**

**That you're never gonna ever take away from me, no**

**This is the part of me**

**That you're never gonna ever take away from me, no**

**Throw your sticks and your stones; throw your bombs and your blows**

**But you're not gonna break my soul**

**This is the part of me**

**That you're never gonna ever take away from me, no**

Kurt let the straw slip from between his lips as he watched the person on stage play the remaining portion of the song with renewed vigor. When he closed his eyes and accentuate the 'no' at the end, Kurt could definitely feel the heart and the passion resonating from his voice.

**This is the part of me, no**

**Away from me, no**

**This is the part of me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me...no**

**Throw your sticks and your stones; throw your bombs and your blows**

**But you're not gonna break my soul**

**This is the part of me**

**That you're never gonna ever take away from me, no**

He finished off with strumming quickly across all the cords before ending all together. The people in their seats clapped enthusiastically, one person even shouting in absolute glee.

Oh wait, that was Kurt.

_Wow Hummel, subtle much?_

He grabbed his guitar and rubbed the back of his neck bashfully again, an adorable blush spreading across his cheeks. "Thank you, the song really means a lot to me. I'm glad there's a place like 'The Pinn Up' where everyone can coincide and not fear the metaphorical sticks or stones of prejudicial ignorance. It's a second home to a stranger like me so far away from his own. So, thanks. And enjoy the rest of your night!"

Kurt watched as the man stepped off the stage with his guitar and Puck once again went on stage to introduce the next person. "Let's give it up one more time for Mr. Frodo!" The crowd clapped and chuckled once more, but Kurt hadn't been paying attention. His glasz eyes were observing the young man who stepped off stage as a small group suddenly stood in front of him, preventing him from crossing to the other side of the club.

"Looks like you enjoyed that performance."

Kurt whipped his head around and blushed at the fact that he was caught staring so openly at a man he'd never even met. "Oh, hey Jake. Um…you didn't actually see all that, did you?"

The younger Puckerman brother smirked, "You mean you drooling over shorty over there?" He pointed towards the one called Devon, who was currently looking very overwhelmed by two girls pressing closer to him. "No, not really. Was just fulfilling my bouncer duties by watching everyone in here. Only came behind the bar for a bottle of water. Open Mic Nights are not exactly our more brawling nights."

Kurt let out a dry laugh, "Right, well, doesn't matter. Looks like he's pretty cozied up to a few female groupies over there."

Jake looked back over, and then rolled his eyes. "Check again."

The paler male looked over his shoulder and his eyebrows rose up. The dark-haired man was pushing away offered pieces of paper, presumably phone numbers, and shaking his head amused when the rejected girls stomped away with a huff. "Guess Blaine plays on your team, huh Hummel?"

This time, Kurt actually felt his neck pop from how hard he snapped it back towards the younger Puckerman. "Blaine? I thought his name was Devon?"

Jake felt his face fall and a curse word escape his lips. "Fuck, Puck is going to kick my ass."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. Too late for you. Why are you calling him Blaine?" Kurt halted the other boy.

Jake groaned, "You have to present I.D. when you sign up for a slot. I've heard Puck call him Blaine all the other times he's talked to him except when he's on stage. That's all I know. I'm…I'm going back to work before you get me in more trouble." Jake reasoned, and then quickly moved away from Kurt.

He spun back around on his barstool and watched as the newly appointed 'Blaine' respectfully gave his attention to the performer currently singing on stage. Kurt had no interest in what song was sung or whoever was currently singing on stage, his gaze focused solely on the mysterious boy.

_Who are you, Blaine?_

* * *

A/N: That was Katy Perry's 'Part of Me.' Darren did do a performance of it, so I kind of went off that one a bit. Look it up on youtube if you're really curious. :) So now you understand why Noah was so pushy. xD haha I made up that drink in my head, if it exists, then that's super cool too! So, review? :D


	6. Determined and Disoriented

Author's Note: Oh my God, sorry about the wait guys. This week was hell with tests and quizzes to study for. But I come bearing gifts! An update! Yay!

It's a short one, but you'll realize why I ended it where I did. Happy Reading everybody!

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.

* * *

(Chapter 6)

Blaine smiled to himself when he realized that Kurt's eyes had been watching him for the past three performances. He'd always been courteous to the other performers who'd put themselves out there and sang on stage. Tonight hadn't been any different. As much as Blaine had wanted to walk right on over to the beautiful, pale looking young man, he held back for a respectful amount of time.

_**Don't want to seem too eager.**_

…

_**Screw it; I was never one for patience anyways.**_

Turning his body, Blaine's eyes lit up when they landed on Kurt. With each step he took, he could feel himself getting even more determined and even more resolute. Maybe this boy didn't have to know about the lie he lived, how when his friends were around he was expected to be grungy and pierced, or how the relationship he kept trying so hard to get rid of always barged into his home unannounced. Blaine didn't know what or where he wanted things to go with the young man from the apartment across from his own, but he did know that he needed to reach out to someone, anyone, before it was too late. Before there was no more Blaine to try and get to know or to preserve, just the hollow shell his 'friends' were unknowingly twisting him into becoming.

"Oof!" Blaine had been so preoccupied with the whirling of possibilities in his mind that he hadn't even been watching where he was going. His stout frame rammed into a thinner one and they both let out tuffs of air when their forms collided.

"What the…Blaine! You're here, this is great!" David smiled at him happily.

"D-David? Wh-What are you doing here?" Blaine didn't want David here. He didn't want anyone that had anything to do with 'Pav's Last Song' here. This was his haven, his home away from home. It wasn't one of the places where he had to put on some sex-appealing, rocker persona. He could be himself here, dammit!

"I told you earlier that I had a meeting with a bar owner. I just got done hashing some details out with Noah Puckerman." David declared, he was proud of his managerial accomplishment.

Blaine bit his lip to keep it from quivering, thankful for the dim lighting so David wouldn't be able to see the beginnings of tears sting his eyes.

_**No…**_

David smiled wide, "Puck agreed to give you guys a shot. He's going to drop by the loft and watch the band practice. If he likes what you guys can do, he's going to give us a gig. Puck and his co-owner have regular, live, band performances in this club. If this works out, 'Pav's Last Song' just might have found a place for steady performances."

_**But why did it have to be here?**_

David was shaking Blaine's arm "We need to have an emergency band meeting RIGHT NOW! Everyone's gonna want to know about this! Let's go!" David was pulling Blaine by the arm across the club.

"No, wait! Just let me…I was going to…David just wait a minute!" Blaine tried to tug out of the strong, determined hold, but it was no use. When David had his mind set on something, it was pretty useless to try and jar him from it.

"No time! Come on, Blaine why aren't you more excited about this? This is what we all wanted." David inquired.

_**Because this is LAST place I wanted this to happen at.**_

Blaine glanced back over his shoulder while his body was pulled out of the club. The pale boy was still seated on his barstool and staring at Blaine in a daze. Kurt's face was the last thing Blaine saw before the door to the club closed behind him.

_**Why did I ever think I could do something just for myself?**_

* * *

Kurt held on to the bar countertop with a white knuckled grip as he tried to focus his gaze on the man now known as Blaine. As the time passed, he'd found his sight beginning to become less focused and his vision beginning to take on a fish-lens type of view. Everything had become fuzzy and the only thing that kept him grounded was the fact that he was trying to remain collected for the heavenly singer he'd hoped to introduce himself to.

_Wha…wha in the…h-how fuckin' drunk…m'I?_

All Kurt was able to see were dark figures bustling around him, while Blaine was the only semi-focusable one in his sights. People became faceless, colors blended together in the most hypnotic way, and voices seemed as if they were underwater. Anytime Kurt turned his head or tried to focus elsewhere, his eyes wouldn't be able to register the new picture and gave Kurt an uneasy feeling in his stomach as vertigo swept him. His steady grip on the countertop the only thing keeping him from falling face-first into the linoleum floor.

_Puck…h-how mu-much bu-booze…d-did put…in m'dr-drink?_

Even his thoughts slurred together, he only had that one drink and a shot. Kurt had never been a lightweight before. How could one drink get him to be this plastered? No, no, he was past plastered; he felt absolutely shit-faced.

_What's wr-wrong with me?_

Suddenly, the person that Kurt's eyes had been riveted to, shot out of his vision and across the floor. It looked like he was being pulled out by someone else, but he couldn't be certain. Kurt had that uneasy feeling in his stomach as he tried to follow Blaine with his eyes. For a split second, Kurt thought they made eye contact. He could almost register desperation in the other's eyes before the door swung closed and broke the connection immediately.

_Ba-Blaine?_

Kurt groaned, without a focal point to distract him everything seemed to heighten around him. The broken noises became louder; the figures swam across his vision in a more disorientating manner, and the churning in his stomach made him even more nauseous than before.

_Oh God, gonna barf._

Kurt got up from his barstool as fast as he could, but due to his legs feeling jelly-like, he stumbled into the man next to him. "Whoa, there. Someone drink a bit more than they could handle?"

The disoriented boy looked up, but closed his eyes against the dizzying movement. "S-sorry." He slurred out. Kurt, not hearing the other's response, just pushed past the man and stumbled his way to one of the walls. He knew there was a bathroom here somewhere along that wall; at this point, he didn't even care if he went into the woman's. He just needed to find a sink, a bathroom, a trashcan, anything!

_P-Please…where's it?_

Kurt finally felt the wall shift away from him; it was a swinging door opening into a bathroom. The nauseous boy fell in and had to blink blearily as the brighter lights hurt his eyes. On his hands and knees, Kurt crawled across the floor to where he saw tall, dark, square things. He assumed them to be stalls and wasted no time in drunkenly scraping his way towards them.

_Just lil…farther._

Slamming his palm against one of the stall doors, he opened it and crawled up to the porcelain bowl. Huh…decently clean, thank heavens. Though, once Kurt got started heaving into the bowl, it wouldn't be in the same condition. Kurt felt tears sting his eyes as the retching burned his throat and sent him into dry heaves.

_Kill me now._

Kurt spit one last time into the bowl before flushing it; he sat back on his haunches and put his hands out against the sides to steady himself. His mouth tasted vile and the acidic burn still tingled in the back of his throat. There was a reason Kurt wasn't one of those people who partied every night and got so drunk that they'd end up flushing their seven dollar drinks down the drain a few hours later. The crashing after the buzz of alcohol was never worth it to him. He was a social drinker, just one or two at the most and nothing more. He'd learned his lesson in high school.

_Haven't…f-felt this bad…s-since th-threw up…Ms. Pi-Pillsburry's shoes._

Groaning, Kurt continued to crawl out of the stall. He felt a little better after ridding his stomach of its contents, but all he really wanted to do now was crawl under some covers and forget this drunken humiliation. Reaching for the sink, he grasped the edge and hauled himself up onto his weakened legs.

_M'look…crap._

Kurt put a palm over his reflection in the mirror and took a deep breath through his nose. His forehead was beading with perspiration; his skin was no longer porcelain looking but a sick pasty color, and his eyes were hidden beneath half-lidded eyelids. Kurt blindly turned the faucet on and wasted no time in sticking his head under it to swish water around in his mouth. After he rid himself of the awful taste, he took a few gulps of water as well. He ripped off a paper towel from a nearby dispenser and wet it before patting it over his face. The napkin warmed under his unusually heated skin and Kurt moaned thankfully into the wet paper towel.

_Home…just home._

Throwing the paper towel in some general direction, Kurt trudged towards the bathroom exit. He was determined to hail a cab, get back to Rachel's apartment, and collapse onto some sort of soft surface. However, just as Kurt was about to put his hands up to push through the door, it forcefully swung open. Due to Kurt's slowed reflexes at the moment, he didn't have the ability to react and put his hands up in protection. The door smacked Kurt in the face and propelled his body the other way. He stumbled backwards for a few steps, and then the heel of his sneaker squelched on the sopping wet paper towel against the linoleum tiles. The foot slipped out from under him, Kurt's body falling backwards. A sharp pain went through the back of Kurt's skull as it cracked against the porcelain sink.

Everything went black.

* * *

A/N: Hmmm...interesting. Share your thoughts about this chapter in review, please?


	7. Back Off

Author's Note: HEY GUYS! Back with another update! Yay!

So...There might be a ***TRIGGER WARNING*** in this chapter. Only for anyone who's ever blacked out and woken up the next day not knowing what the hell happened. I don't know how these trigger warnings work, so I'm just gonna put this up as a warning. If it needs to be more elaborate, let me know and I'll fix it. Kay?

Anyways, Happy Reading!

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.

* * *

(Chapter 7)

Kurt groaned as he began to rejoin the world of the living. His eyes started to flutter, but he winced when the light hurt his eyes.

_Too bright, too bright._

Whimpering a bit, he decided to try and feel his surroundings in order to figure out where the hell he was. He was on his back, on something softer than the floor but not as comfortable as a bed. A couch maybe, but who's couch? Raising his hand to shield his eyes from the light, Kurt slit his eyes open minutely.

_This…is not Rachel's apartment._

Uh oh, Kurt's heart started beating a little faster and his quiet breaths began to pick up into frightened pants. What the hell had he done last night? There was no coffee table in front of him, but just a plasma screen mounted on the wall over an elaborate gaming system. Kurt's eyes were wide now as he panicked in the unknown apartment, completely ignoring the agonizing pain in his head. When he heard movement behind him, his head snapped to the side. However, that was a bad idea. A shot of pain split through his skull and caused Kurt to yelp out in surprised pain.

"Huh? Kurt? You up, dude?"

Kurt's thoughts were momentarily stunted, "P-Puck?" He called out uncertainly.

Before Kurt could think that maybe it was just wishful thinking that the voice was Puck, a Mohawk sporting head popped over the backing of the couch. He could see the genuine worry in his friend's eyes before he covered it up with a half-hearted smirk. "Well look who's alive. Damn Hummel, I don't remember you being this much of a lightweight."

The hung over boy huffed, "I'll have you kno…" Kurt's stomach made a queasy noise, his face tinting a shade of green. Puck rolled his eyes, pointing to the trashcan by Kurt's head he had conveniently placed there for him sometime throughout the night. The pale boy reached over and dry-heaved into the empty can, not enough contents in his stomach to do anything more than just that.

"Uhuh…I'm so impressed." Puck dropped the bottle of aspirin he had grabbed from the kitchen into Kurt's lap and made his way back over to the makeshift kitchen. Chuckling to himself he hollered over his shoulder, "Hey, you know what's great for a hang over?" He paused for a moment, waiting for Kurt to stop making sick noises. "A greasy bacon and liverwurst sandwich on burnt toast with a cup of sour milk."

Kurt let out a disgusted moan as his dry-heaves became louder. "PUCKERMAN, YOU ASSHOLE!" Puck just laughed louder, thoroughly enjoying Kurt's miserable morning.

Jake came padding in from the hallway, rubbing his eyes sleepily, in pajama bottoms and a Titan, wife-beater. He yawned, "What's with all the noise?" When Puck just snickered and Kurt proceeded to groan more, Jake sniffed the air experimentally, "It smells like bacon and sick in here."

Puck chuckled, "The bacon is breakfast, the sick is all thanks to princess over there."

"Hey!"

"Oh shut it, you'll just give yourself a bigger headache."

Kurt ignored Puck for the moment, concentrating on sitting up gingerly when he was sure he wasn't going to choke anymore. He unscrewed the cap of the aspirin bottle and took two tablets. He brought his knees up to his chest and placed his head on his knees. Kurt crinkled his nose in disgust when his clothes smelled weird. He couldn't place exactly what the scent was, but the hung over boy just knew he didn't like it.

_I feel like death._

The pale young man listened to Puck and Jake as they fought over portions of bacon and egg while he tried to take deep breaths to settle his stomach. When it finally did begin to settle, he became aware of the consistent throbbing in the back of his skull. His lifted his hand to gingerly prod at the spot that probably had an angry bump on it. To his bewilderment, he felt something dry and crisp matted into his hair. Kurt lifted his head up when he brought his hand back to his face and his eyes bugged out of his head.

_What the…_

"Puck, what the fuck happened last night?" Kurt stood up on shaky legs as he stumbled his way over to the island separating the living room from the kitchen. Jake looked up around a mouthful of egg and Puck raised an eyebrow at him over his own plate of breakfast. Kurt couldn't remember anything. He has never consumed so much alcohol that he ended up blacking out. The fact that there was some dry blood matted in his hair from an injury he couldn't remember happening alarmed him all the more.

Puck narrowed his eyes at him, putting down his makeshift bacon and egg sandwich. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Kurt sat in a chair across from the Puckerman brothers and ran a hand through his messy hair, remembering to avoid the broken skin on the back of his head. "Um…" He looked up for a moment as he pondered the not so clear events from the previous night. When his gaze shifted over to the younger Puckerman, he snapped his fingers in recognition. "You…I remember you. I remember watching the performance of that Devon character on stage. Then…then you told me that…his name was Blaine? Right?"

Puck slowly turned to glare Jake, the younger brother looking down at his plate with way too much fascination. The older Puckerman slapped his younger brother upside the head. "Ack! The hell was that for?"

Noah let out a frustrated breath, "Little brother, we've talked about this. If a performer doesn't want everyone to know their name, we have to respect that fact. Because if we don't, then they'll go somewhere else and you know 'Open Mic Night' is only a success when we have people willing to get up on stage! That's when we get all those groupies to come in just to hear 'em sing. Got it?" Puck said as he had his younger brother in a one armed headlock.

"All right! All right! I get it." Jake shoved his older brother off of him. "Jeez man, it was an accident. I'll be more careful next time." He said around a scowl as he stabbed some egg with his fork and shoved it into his mouth quickly.

Puck scrutinized his brother for a moment longer before turning his gaze back to a frustrated looking Kurt. He had his eyes downcast as he tried to recall the events that occurred after the conversation about Blaine's real name. The tanned man sighed, "Dude, do you at least remember how much you drank? Did someone buy you shots or…what?"

Kurt's eyes looked back up, silent anger was radiating from him. "Just the drinks you gave me. I remember the shot, Blaine singing, the peach thing you gave me, Jake, then…nothing. Next thing I knew, I woke up on your couch and there was dried blood in my hair." He wasn't angry with either one of them, he was upset for allowing himself to get so out of hand last night when he always prided himself on being the more composed one. "How'd I get here anyways?"

Jake took a sip of orange juice, "Some chick was freaking out about a passed out dude in the middle of the women's bathroom. I was about to come in there and kick some ass, but then I saw it was you."

Puck nodded, though there was confusion and an uneasy look on his face. "Yup, told Jakey to watch over things while I situated you up here in the loft. Rachel would've killed me if I allowed her 'best gay' to choke on his own vomit. I put a towel down first so you wouldn't bleed or throw up all over my couch. Which reminds me…" He got up from his place at the island and rummaged through a drawer in the kitchen.

Kurt had taken to looking around the loft, impressed. This entire floor above 'The Pinn Up' was what they called home.

_Wow._

When Puck seemed to have finally found what he was looking for, he walked back over to the table and slid Kurt's iPhone over to him. "Here, found this under one of the sinks in there. Must have fallen out during your drunken adventure." Puck teased playfully.

Kurt stuck his tongue out at him childishly, but then he frowned when he found his phone was dead. "Dammit, my phone's dead. What if my dad's trying to call me or he needs something? Shit. I gotta go." The now frantic boy pulled on his vest from last night over his body and hopped around the room as he tried to shove his feet inside his sneakers.

Puck was wearing an amused expression on his face while Jake just wondered why his older brother hung out with such a weird guy like Kurt. "Take a taxi!" Puck hollered.

_Puckasaurus my ass; your brother's turned you into such a mama bear._

Kurt was two seconds away from bursting out of the loft when he paused, and turned back to look at Puck. "A word of advice, Puckerman. Lay off all that liquor in your Puckerman Specialty and definitely rethink the ingredient of Margarita salt. The salty aftertaste totally ruined the drink." Looking over at the small table next to the door, Kurt picked up some sunglasses and popped them over his eyes. "Just for getting me so drunk, I'm borrowing these sunglasses." Kurt sniffed primly at the brothers before opening the door and exiting the loft.

Jake wilted, "Those were mine."

After a moment of them sitting in silence, Jake turned to look at his brother. "How much liquor DID you put in his drink?"

Puck turned to look at Jake with a leveled gaze, "I don't. The Puckerman Specialty is a shot of tequila with a non-alcoholic drink. I just tell everyone there's alcohol in it so they let loose without the alcohol lowering their inhibitions. I may like sex, but not with women who don't know what the fuck is going on." He shrugged, like the fact that he was a decent guy sometimes was no big deal.

Suddenly, he shoved out of his seat, agitated, and dumped his dishes in the sink. Puck turned around to lean against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. The gears were grinding in his head, that much Jake was certain.

"Bro, what?" Jake questioned.

Noah scratched his head, "Just that thing Kurt said about the Margarita salt."

Jake rolled his eyes. "So ONE person doesn't like something about your specialty drink. Big deal."

The older boy shook his head, "Lil' bro, you don't get it. There is no salt in that drink. It's crushed ice with peach and strawberry flavors in it. Then I put a wedge of peach on the rim and that's it. It shouldn't have been salty."

Jake furrowed his eyebrows, as thoroughly confused now as his brother was. "What are you trying to say here man?"

Puck ran a hand over his face and sighed heavily, "I don't know, Jake. I just…the only thing I can think of is…" He shook his head of his train of thought. "You know what, maybe I added salt without knowing it. Slip ups happen. Hurry up and finish your breakfast, we got a club to spruce up before we open it up to our loyal customers tonight." He had too big of a smile on his face for it to be genuine. Jake knew his brother better than that. Something was still bothering Puck; he just wasn't going to drag his younger brother into it if he didn't need to.

* * *

On that same morning, Blaine was dragging himself up the stairs to his apartment. All he wanted to do was face plant into bed and sleep. He hadn't gotten any sleep that night thanks to an emergency meeting called by David. Wes was only too happy to oblige.

_**Seriously, do you guys even have an off switch?**_

As Wes congratulated David on getting the audition, Blaine just sat in his corner. Mentally relieved that they were so consumed by their possible upcoming gig that they didn't comment on Blaine's 'strange' attire. As they waited for the rest of the band to get there, Blaine let his mind wander to 'The Pinn Up.' He hadn't performed there in a couple of weeks, but he was glad he decided to do it. Even if he hadn't of met his elusive neighbor yet, just those few minutes of bearing his soul out on that stage had made his night. No masks, no makeup, and no shoddy attempt at being someone he wasn't. It had just been him.

Blaine found himself smiling slightly as he fished his keys out from his pants and reached his apartment's door. His head tilted to the side when he noticed a folded up note taped to his door. He looked around the empty hallway for anyone who might have left it. Blaine frowned when he found no one.

_**Prolly just the landlord reminding me that rent's due in a few days or something.**_

He took it off his door before unlocking his apartment to go inside. The tanned boy placed his guitar on its stand as he kicked the door closed with his foot. He made his way into his bedroom; however, instead of face planting into a pillow, he wandered over to his window. In hopes of catching a glimpse of the boy whom he had locked eyes with the night before. A smile quirked on the corners of his lips as he looked at the paper in his hands, when Blaine opened the folded paper his triangular eyebrows furrowed at its message.

**BACK OFF**

That's what the cut out letters from some magazine had spelled out on the paper. Was this some joke? Blaine's received some strange messages from a couple of fans before, but he has never received anything as strange as this. As far as he knew, he hasn't been doing anything that different in his every-day routine.

_**Back off?**_

_**Back off of what?**_

Blaine's head snapped up when he heard a blaring horn from the street below. He caught sight of Kurt slamming a taxicab's door before he sprinted into his apartment building. Looking down at the note, then back up at the apartment building across from his own, something clicked in Blaine's head.

_**The note couldn't have been talking about Kurt.**_

_**Could it?**_

* * *

A/N: Actually inching into the plot, hooray! Oooh any thoughts, either with what Puck might be thinking or on the note? Please review, I'd really appreciate it!


	8. Fate is Kind

Author's Note: What?! Another update?! Before the weekend?! I guess I just love all you guys so much that I couldn't wait. Also, I really just wanted to do this scene. It's been half written since I started chapter 3. Anyways, all your reviews, favorites, and alerts are just awesome. I really appreciate them! ^-^

Duet explanations:

_**Kurt**_ (Italic/Bold)

**Blaine** (Bold)

_***BOTH*** _(Italic/Bold/Stars)

Hope you like it and it makes sense! Let me know if it doesn't!

Happy Reading!

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.

* * *

(Chapter 8)

Kurt smiled down at his cell phone when it started to buzz. Thanks to the hang over from hell, the last few days he'd been feeling like crap; he didn't know a hang over could last for more than a day. It was like this one was out for vengeance, which is ridiculous. Not to mention he'd been living off of Tylenol thanks to the stupid gash on the back of his head. Today had been the first morning he woke up not feeling nauseous and didn't wince when he re-applied Liquid Band-Aid to the cut on the back of his head. That was why he felt good enough to laze about on the apartment rooftop. The cool night air prompting Kurt to dress in one of his knee-length, Alexander McQueen sweaters (midnight blue), black skinny-jeans, and black boots.

"Hello?"

"Evening bud, I'm on way home from the shop so I thought I'd call and see how New York's been treatin' ya." Burt answered.

"From just doing supervisions, not manual labor, right dad?" Kurt reminded.

"Yes, yes, I promised, didn't I?"

Kurt let out a chuckle, "Just checking, and the city's okay I guess. Nothing I haven't seen before, remember?"

Burt sighed, "Yeah, but nothing's caught your interest? Nothing that would make you consider…staying there for a while?

He frowned, "Why would I? Th-There isn't something wrong again, is there? Should I come back home? I'm sure Rachel would understand…"

"No, no, no. Kurt, I'm fine. No need to rush back on my account." Burt said.

Kurt huffed, "Why does it sound like you are trying to get rid of me?"

"Kurt, you know that is not what I'm trying to do. I just…I just don't want you to feel like you're stuck in Lima."

"I'm was never stuck."

"Yes, you were…ARE. You gave up your dream, Broadway…"

"Dad, you had cancer! I wasn't going to stay here while you were fighting prostate cancer. It was bad enough that when you first found out you tried to downplay it with me." Kurt ran a hand over his face, deciding to look out at the city lights in hopes of distracting himself. He figured his dad didn't call for another lecture from his son. "We've had this conversation before. Why are you bringing it up again?"

There was a beat of silence before Burt spoke again, "I understand, but I'm alright now. Even better than I was before!" He chuckled. "Listen, you have no idea how grateful and proud I am to have a son like you. You've been taking care of me ever since high school, but that's not your job, Kurt."

"But dad, I…"

"Now just listen for a minute. I'd like to think I'm a pretty stubborn man so I don't plan on kicking the bucket anytime soon. Ya hear me?"

Kurt sighed, "Yeah, I hear you."

"Good, now you are going to enjoy your time in New York. Go see one of them Broadway shows you like so much. Hell, go visit Puck at that ridiculous bar him and Finn own for all I care. Just don't stay cooped up in that apartment. I mean…how can you enjoy the city when you're determined to let it go on without you?" Burt questioned.

Kurt flinched at the mention of the bar; his last visit hadn't gone so well. He wasn't too keen on going back anytime soon. Though, he spared his father of that minor detail. "All right, I get it. But you know me, I worry."

Burt chuckled, "Did you forget my wife's a nurse?"

"Of course not."

"She's even gives you a run for money when it comes to helping me stay healthy. You don't need to worry about me all the time, okay? I'm the dad; I'm supposed to worry about you."

Kurt smiled slightly, "Well, I'm glad to hear Carole's holding down the fort." His eyes seemed to glance back at the apartment building across from his own, Blaine's apartment building; he had to bite back a giggle. "And don't worry, I've actually already seen ONE new thing in New York. I'll try and take in whatever else comes my way…you know, for you."

"That's all I ask." Burt paused for moment, and then something seemed to click. "Wait…that last statement didn't have anything to do with a guy, did it? Kurt, I know I said enjoy the city, but they aren't the only thing New York has to offer, right?"

Kurt smacked the heel of his palm to his forehead. Sometimes having a dad that knew him that well wasn't always a good thing.

_I should have shut my mouth after the whole 'fort' statement._

* * *

Blaine frowned at the eyeliner around his eyes as he looked at himself in his dresser's mirror. Wes had been right; the eyeliner did draw attention to their faces. Everyone else's eyes looked smoldering, seductive, or lively, though Blaine's hazel orbs just looked hollow and listless. However, Blaine just couldn't bring himself to care. It was like he'd just grown numb to it all. The alcohol sure as hell wasn't helping anymore, if anything it would drown him further into a depressing abyss. He grabbed the baby wipes on his dresser and slowly cleaned his face. His hands robotically removed his piercings like he did every night. Blaine discarded them into his jewelry bowl and stripped out of his smoky smelling clothes.

_**God, that eyeliner looks so sexy on you.**_

Blaine angrily shoved his limbs into some jeans and a red zip-up hoodie, forgetting an undershirt in his frustrations when Sebastian's earlier words suddenly echoed in his head. He did not appreciate it at all when one of his band mates, they refused to own up to who did it, invited Sebastian to see how the new cosmetic addition turned out. The basterd had pressed up against his back while Blaine had been trying to put on the ridiculous eyeliner in the band's loft bathroom. He had husked dirty things into Blaine's un-wanting ear and even bit his earlobe. After getting over the initial shock, Blaine had elbowed him in his kidneys and chucked him off his back. Blaine was pretty sure if he had let him, Sebastian would have fucked him up against the bathroom wall. Not even giving a rat's ass that their friends were on the other side of the door, possibly able to hear everything if anything went on.

_**Go find some whore to pay if you're that damn desperate.**_

Sebastian had only smiled.

_**You get paid to put on a show for people.**_

_**You entertain them with a fantasy.**_

_**In my book, that's the very definition of a whore.**_

Blaine knew it was just something he'd said to get under his skin and he shouldn't believe it, because that wasn't true. He was a singer, a stage performer, not a whore. The young man rubbed at his suddenly watery eyes; the day's toll was crashing down on him, and he didn't like it. Blaine stood up and walked over to his punching bag, he put up his hands to start punching, but his shaking palms didn't want to form fists. He looked at his hands, slender fingers perfect for piano playing and guitar strumming. Those same hands have been bruised and bloody countless times before. Blaine wasn't a violent person, and yet, beating the crap out of something was turning out to be the best part of his day.

_**No…stop it.**_

Blaine decided to forgo the punching bag and pulled on a pair of sneakers. He lifted up his bedroom window and climbed out onto his fire escape. When the chilly breeze caressed his exposed chest, he shivered and zipped up his hoodie. He looked up at the dark sky and weirdly wished to be back in Westerville. At least there, he was able to see the stars. His anxieties and problems always seemed less worrisome when the twinkling sky winked at him.

_**And yet, I can't go back there either; it was just as bad.**_

If you told Blaine five years ago that this was what he was going to become, he would have laughed. Blaine would have said that he'd never sit back and let someone else's views dictate his life again. His father had tried to convince him that 'straight' was his real persona for years before he was able to get away from his anti-gay influence. Now, it's happening all over again. People were pushing things on him, trying to make him believe he is something that he clearly is not. When he mulled it over in his mind, the reality of his day-to-day life was like a skit of rehearsed scenes, and he was just a character with a part to play. He may have dreamed of fame; he may have dreamed of the stage, but ultimately when the show was over, he dreamed of being able to stop pretending to be someone else, and just be Blaine.

_**Do people try and change me so much, because no one actually likes who I really am?**_

Blaine stared at the starless sky as he walked up the flights of fire escapes. The final ladder leading to the roof came within reach and he didn't hesitate before climbing it to the top. He straddled the uprooted edge of the rooftop and lifted his head to gaze at the dark sky. Blaine did the only thing he could think of that would give him comfort.

He sang.

* * *

Kurt had been smiling to himself after he hung up with his dad. After the conversation, he had climbed back down to his own terrace-like platform and planned to go to bed. However, before he could slip into Rachel's apartment, he heard it.

**When you wish upon a star**

**Makes no difference who you are**

**Anything your heart desires**

**Will come to you**

Kurt saw him, sitting on his rooftop and looking up at the sky. He'd know that voice anywhere. It was the same voice he heard sing at 'The Pinn Up.' It was…

_Blaine._

**If your heart is in your dreams**

**No request is too extreme**

**When you wish upon a star**

**Like dreamers do**

All Kurt could do was stare up in awe at the velvet voice drifting in the wind. The song may have been a simple Disney tune, but Blaine made it so moving that Kurt almost wanted to cry. It was one of his favorite songs as a kid, and here was this handsome guy singing it with as much reverence as Kurt would have.

**Fate is kind**

**She brings to those who love**

**The sweet fulfillment of their secret longing**

When Kurt heard Blaine start to whistle, something inside Kurt shifted. There was a promise he made, a promise to take in whatever good may come his way. Well, what more could he ask for than this?

**[Whistling break]**

Blaine cleared his throat when the whistling was done; he opened his mouth and was about to continue the song, but someone else beat him to it.

_**When you wish upon a star**_

_**Makes no difference who you are**_

_**Anything your heart desires**_

_**Will come to you**_

Blaine whipped his head down to where he heard the beautiful voice come from and his eyes widened. There, looking right back up at him, was Kurt. His angelic porcelain face was the only beacon of light visible in the otherwise dark alleyway.

_**If your heart is in your dreams**_

_**No request is too extreme**_

_**When you wish upon a star**_

_**Like dreamers do**_

The hazel-eyed boy felt his body moving towards the stunning voice on it's own accord. Quietly, as if the metal staircase was afraid of make noise in fear of disturbing the beautiful scene occurring between these two, Blaine descended the fire escapes until he was on his own; the one that just happened to be directly across from Kurt's.

_**Fate is kind**_

_**She brings to those who love**_

_**The sweet fulfillment of their secret longing**_

As Kurt finished the last verse, both parties stared at each other for a moment in wonder. A slow smile crept onto Blaine's face as a shy smile and a blush fanned across Kurt's. The two of them seemed to be on the same page, because at the same time, they both started to climb the rest of the way down to the street below.

_***LIKE A BOLT OUT OF THE BLUE***_

_***FATE STEPS IN AND PULLS YOU THROUGH***_

_***WHEN YOU WISH UPON A STAR***_

_***YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE***_

Kurt's boots thumped to the concrete floor, as did Blaine's tennis shoes. The two walked towards one another the few steps it took to meet each other halfway. Kurt didn't know why, but his heart was thumping maddeningly in his chest. He can't remember the last time he did something…something as spontaneous as that. Blaine on the other hand, could not keep his eyes from roaming over the gorgeous looking man. When his eyes met back up with Kurt's face, he saw the coy look and the fierce blush coloring his cheeks at having someone stare at him.

Blaine shook his head, feeling very impolite for gawking. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment for being caught, "Forgive me, that was rude. I…I um…" He chuckled awkwardly and stuck his hand out before he lost his nerve, "My name's Blaine."

Kurt looked at the hand in front of him, then his glasz eyes lifted back up to stare at Blaine's hazel one's. "I know." When Blaine tilted his head adorably and raised an eyebrow, Kurt felt his lips quirk up into a small smile. He placed his pale hand in Blaine's tanned one, the comforting weight of each other's hands sending a warm flush up their arms. "Kurt."

This time, it was Blaine's turn to give Kurt a small, amused smile. He mimicked Kurt's earlier statement. "I know."

* * *

A/N: YAY! They have FINALLY met! So what did you think? Was it to your liking? :3 Btw, the song was 'When You Wish Upon a Star' and it's Michelle Creber's duet version with Andrew Stein. :) Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter!


	9. Friend?

Author's Note: OMG. Has it really been two weeks since I've updated this? I. Am. SO. Sorry! I had writer's block for a bit, but I worked through it for the time being! Let's hope it doesn't happen again. *fingers crossed*

BTW, thanks SO much for your wonderful reviews. I seriously appreciate them if I don't stress that enough. THANK YOU!

Anyways, this chapter is a bit short, but that's because it's setting up my next chapter.

Thanks for your patience and Happy Reading!

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.

* * *

(Chapter 9)

"What?! Are you serious?!" Kurt said as he covered his mouth and giggled uncontrollably in the café booth he sat in across from Blaine.

Blaine covered his face with his hands and groaned, "Oh my God, why did I tell you that?"

Kurt giggled again, taking a sip of his hot chocolate before another fit of laughter escaped him. "I think it's cute. Not many teenagers would have had the guts to perform at an amusement park, let alone at an amusement park in Ohio." He smiled, finding the pouty look Blaine was giving him absolutely adorable. Tilting his head, he gave Blaine some pity. "All right, all right. How about I tell you something embarrassing that happened to me?"

"Ooooh it's about time. Yes, go, go!" Blaine bounced in his seat anxiously. The two had been jabbering away in a small café just a short walking distance away from their two apartment buildings. The flow of conversation was so easy for them, almost as if they were two long time friends playing catch-up.

Kurt wiped a tear from his eye because he had been laughing so hard. He looked down at his hot chocolate and swiped a slender finger through some left over whip cream, not seeing the other boy follow his finger's movement to his lips with riveted fascination as he sucked off the sweetness. "As equally embarrassing as this is…I was in a televised commercial with the rest of my Glee Club my sophomore year." Blaine stared. "We sang, danced, and jumped all over the mattresses we were supposed to be advertising."

Blaine looked at Kurt's face for a moment, and then a light bulb in his head went off as an excited smile crossed his face. "Oh my God, for Mattress Land?" Kurt's eyes widened when he realized Blaine knew what he was talking about. Blaine waved his hands animatedly, "Stop, stop, stop right there. Do not tell me you were the guys that performed Van Halen's 'Jump' in the middle of that mattress filled wonderland."

The pale boy flushed, "Y-You saw that?"

"Duh! It was only like…the best daytime commercial ever! Besides, Mattress Land was the only decent place to buy mattresses from in Ohio. I'm proud to say that throughout my high school experience, a Mattress Land mattress was what I slept on, thank you very much." Blaine said. As he sipped his own hot chocolate, his eyes remained on Kurt. The other boy's eyes were still downcast in embarrassment. Blaine didn't know why, but he liked this guy. He was so raw, open, and different.

_**BACK OFF**_

Blaine wanted to smack himself, why was he still thinking of that stupid note anyways? He wasn't even certain if the note was in reference to Kurt. It was probably something obscure from a random fan…that's all, r-right? "Excuse me, but are you two quite finished. We would like to close up now." The irritated voice of their waitress suddenly said. Her face was pinched into an unappealing scowl.

Kurt turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "You're excused, and no. We were in the middle of a very intriguing conversation." Kurt smiled sweetly when the waitress huffed at them. "Isn't this place open until two o'clock? I do believe me and my friend here only sat down about an hour or so ago."

Blaine's triangular eyebrows rose in surprise.

_**Friend?**_

"Sir, it is a quarter past two. We gave you and your companion an extra fifteen minutes while we began closing up shop. Now we are done, but we can't very well leave if there are customers still at the tables." The waitress said haughtily when a stunned look crossed Kurt's face. Neither male had realized that their quick trip for hot chocolate turned into nearly a four-hour get-to-know-one-another thing.

Suddenly, Blaine saw a really bitchy look cross Kurt's features, so he cut in before a full-blown argument could erupt. "Of course, ma'am. We were just going to continue this conversation elsewhere. Thank you so much." Blaine smiled charmingly, handing the woman enough money to cover their beverages and a rather generous tip. He didn't wait for her or Kurt to say anything more; he just grabbed a confused Kurt's arm and proceeded to lead them out of the café.

"Wha—Hey! Blaine, what did you do that for? I was just about to put that extremely rude waitress in her place."

Blaine chuckled, "Personally, I like that café, so I would really prefer not getting banned from it for making one of their employees cry."

"She was the one being…ugh, awful!"

"I agree, but I'm sure she was just tired and wanted to get home."

Kurt stared at the side of Blaine's face for a moment. The shorter boy, he-he was being serious. "Wow…you're a really kind person aren't you? Always trying to see the good in people, go out of your way to be nice, that sort of thing. Am I right?"

Blaine flushed a bit, "I-I don't know what you mean." He stared at their shoes as they proceeded to walk down the sidewalk. Most people thought his constantly positive attitude was annoying. Being referred to as kind? That was…surprisingly a first for him.

"Don't get me wrong, it's refreshing. I just never expected it from someone out of Ohio. Everyone there is so close-minded and attacks anyone who's different." Kurt frowned. "No one was ever really kind from Lima."

_They were especially unkind towards me._

"I think you're kind. I think you're a lot of things actually, and I've yet to find something negative about you."

It was Kurt's turn to flush. "Haha…really? You have nothing to say about that bitch-fit I threw back there?"

Blaine smiled, "So you're a little bit high-strung? Personally, I found that moment of feistiness to be rather cute."

_Did-Did he just call me cute?_

When they finally arrived at the front of Kurt's apartment building, the two stood outside awkwardly. Both didn't really want to say goodbye for the night, but neither really knew what else could be done that night. "I…um…it was really nice meeting my elusive window neighbor. I'm sorry for chattering on for so long. You should have really told me to stop when you got bored."

"And who said I was bored?" Blaine said, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

_**BACK OFF**_

Kurt chuckled, embarrassed. "Well…at least let me apologize for duet ambushing your song."

"Why? It's the best duet I've been apart of in years. Your voice is exquisite."

_Not as good as yours._

Kurt shook his head dumbly, not believing that someone could be so nice. "Ah…well, h-how much do I owe you for the hot chocolate?" He said as he fumbled for his wallet in a side pocket, head snapping up with surprised glasz eyes when a warm tanned hand rested on top of his shaking one.

"Don't even think about it, dummy. It's on me." Kurt looked down at the hand on his hand and essentially his hip. It felt tentative, hesitant. It was almost as if Kurt could feel the uncertainty behind that small gesture.

Suddenly, the hand was yanked back and Kurt looked back up to see a slightly frightened look on his face. "I-I-I'm sorry. Th-That was presumptuous of me. Just because I'm…doesn't mean you're…I don't even know if…well if you're…if…"

"What? Gay? Of course I am…couldn't you tell?" Kurt didn't know how to take this reaction, normally the minute he entered a room people assumed he was gay. It's how people always saw him, how people always judged him.

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows when he realized Kurt wasn't about to blow up at him. He tilted his head at Kurt's questions. "Uh…why would I just assume it?"

"Well, just look at me."

Blaine looked. He didn't know what he was supposed to see. "What am I looking for? Is there a rainbow flag stashed somewhere in your designer sweater?"

"No! I-I…" Kurt sighed deeply. "I guess I've always been so effeminate in everyone's eyes that I got used to being judged that way. I didn't mean to put you on the spot." Clearly he was flustered with himself for being so suspicious.

"I take it upon myself not to judge anyone. What makes you think I want to judge you just by the way you look? That's very ill-mannered." To Blaine it was a very legitimate answer, one that completely threw Kurt for a loop.

Kurt opened and closed his mouth a few times. God, he felt like an ass for thinking this clearly nice guy's words were just a ruse. He'd forgotten that the people in New York were not all like the people in Lima. "Thank You." He looked around himself for a moment before biting his lip and nodding awkwardly. "All right, um…I'm gonna go now. Thanks for…you know, the hot chocolate. It was nice." He looked into Blaine's hazel eyes for a moment, hoping for him to say something more, before shaking himself of such unrealistic thinking. "So…um, yeah. Bye."

When Kurt turned to leave, Blaine panicked. His mouth opened and blurted out words his head hadn't even fully formulated yet. "Do you want to go out sometime?!" Kurt froze in his movements, a small gasp escaping him.

_**BACK OFF!**_

Blaine mentally growled at the note that kept flickering across the forefront of his mind. There was a list of people he let tell him what to do on a daily basis already. He wasn't about to let a damn note written by some anonymous person be added to that list too!

_**SHUT THE HELL UP!**_

"The boardwalk. You ever been to the carnival on the boardwalk? I-It's awesome, and I…I wanna take you there…on a date…tomorrow night." Blaine smiled gleefully. He did it. He asked Kurt out, and it was HIS decision.

Kurt turned around, but he didn't look happy. He looked conflicted. "I…can't." Blaine's face fell. "That wouldn't be fair to you."

Blaine pursed his lips. "Are you…already seeing someone?"

"No, Blaine, I don't live here. I live in Lima. I didn't move here; I'm just apartment sitting for my stepbrother and stepsister-in-law." Kurt frowned, hating himself for putting such a confused and sad look on Blaine's face.

"How long are you…visiting?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Two weeks or so? Depending when they get back from their honeymoon."

Blaine was thinking over Kurt's every word. It wasn't a no. It was more of a shouldn't, but he wants to, and that was enough for Blaine. "So we'll go as friends."

"Blaine…"

"What? Two gay men can't be friends now?"

"No, it's not that…"

"Then it's settled. You said it yourself, you're only here for a couple of weeks. Just because you're apartment sitting, doesn't mean you have to stay in the apartment ALL the time. Come on out and have some fun with me. Please?" Blaine pleaded, shooting Kurt his signature puppy dog look.

Kurt gulped; damn, he really knew how to work those eyes. He was about to try and protest one last time, but then Blaine managed to make his eyes bigger, sadder. How did he do that?! Kurt finally sighed, realizing he wasn't going to win this. "As friends?"

"Friends." Blaine stuck his hand out, a confused Kurt putting his hand in the other's for a…goodbye handshake? "Well that's nice and everything, but I was asking for your phone. Exchanging numbers is what friends do after all."

The pale boy snorted, pulling out his phone and handing it to the other. Blaine tapped his digits into the phone and handed it back to Kurt, who put it back in his pocket. He rolled his eyes at Blaine and proceeded to enter his apartment building.

Blaine was humming happily as he made his way back to his own apartment. Partially from the fact that he finally listened to only himself, and the other half because he had a date with KURT.

_**Well, a not-date…date.**_

_**An outing, maybe?**_

Whatever, he didn't care at this point. It was just nice being around someone who wasn't constantly telling him what to do, and actually listened to him when he had something to say instead of brushing him off.

When his phone buzzed in his pocket, Blaine pulled it out with a smile.

_**I'll meet you outside our apartment buildings at 7. –Kurt**_

Before Blaine could type out a reply, another message appeared.

_**Goober. –Kurt**_

Blaine chuckled at that.

_**Looking forward**** t****o it.**** –B.A.**_

* * *

A/N: Yeah, so nothing major. But I felt like if I started with the next chapter I have planned, people would have been lost or it would have been too soon. Also, I'm asking for your guys input. Would you like me to do the next chapter on the fluffiness of the not-date date, or hurry up and get back to the plot? I leave it up to you my lovelies. Please leave me your input in a review. It would be so much help to me. :D


	10. Whips Cream

Author's Note: Hello all the lovely people that read this story! I have come with the fluffy update! Though I must say, a tad of angstiness wormed it's way in there, but that's because a bit more background came out of this chapter too. Don't worry, though! I think overall the fluffiness makes up for it!

So I didn't get to finish their entire time at the carnival in this chapter, so there will be a second chapter of carnival antics! :D

BTW, you can thank '**I hate mosquitos**' for the little tidbit I added at the beginning. ;)

Happy Reading!

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.

* * *

(Chapter 10)

"Kurt, I think you've used almost half your credits on this game. It's a rip off and you know it. No one can win."

"I know…I just…I REALLY want that prize. It's like…a collector's edition!"

Blaine chuckled, "You can probably get it for just five dollars online."

_**Which is substantially less than what you've given the gaming vender at this point.**_

"But I wanted THAT one!" Kurt pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the spiteful 'Goblet Toss.'

Blaine rubbed his back, placating, smiling to himself when he felt Kurt's tense stance actually relax under his ministrations. Currently, Kurt was wearing a black, knee-length coat with few of the top buttons undone so Blaine could admire his gorgeous pale neck, a bright blue shirt that made his eyes look absolutely amazing peeked out from underneath the coat, tight jeans, and black combat boots. Kurt's outfit choice may have been simple, but Blaine could not stop admiring his companion. When he glanced down at his own choice of clothing—a black and white brindle sweater, cuffed jeans, and black shoes—Blaine couldn't help but hope that maybe Kurt got dressed with him in mind, much like how Blaine had with the intention to impress Kurt when he chose his outfit for the evening.

_**Does he always look so put together?**_

Blaine was brought out of his ogling when Kurt turned his head towards him and showed Blaine his big longing blue eyes; it was enough to want to make Blaine just pay for the damn Lady Gaga puzzle himself.

"Yay! I won!" A little boy shouted in glee as he observed the little plastic ball he threw land in a red goblet.

Kurt snapped his head to the side, "WHAT?!"

_**Uh oh…**_

The little boy giggled and made grabby hands at the puzzle (Kurt's puzzle!) that was handed to him. The boy titled his head as he looked at his prize, then tugged on his dad's jeans to ask, "Daddy? Who's the man wearing a sparkly dress in this picture."

When Kurt got a, 'what did he just say?' look on his face, Blaine knew it was time to forcible steer Kurt away from the 'Goblet Toss.' Kurt didn't even seem to notice as his mouth hung open in shock at the equally confused look that crossed the father's face. Blaine looped his arm through Kurt's to grasp his pale hand between both of his olive-toned ones. "How about we find that nice game of 'Skee-Ball' you liked so much?"

"Lady Gaga isn't a man!

"I know, Kurt."

"She is an artist!"

"A very good one at that."

"No one has talent, but her!"

"Whoa, whoa, Katy Perry is VERY talented. I shall not have you putting down my woman."

Kurt momentarily felt his tirade diminish; the look of mock-challenge on Blaine's features was absolutely adorable. "Your woman, is she?" he smirked.

Blaine nodded curtly, "Katy Perry fills my life with lollipops and candy canes. She is so epic that she puts the 'scream' in whips cream."

"The 'scream' in whips cream?"

"Yes."

"That makes no sense."

"She's Katy Perry. She doesn't have to make sense."

Kurt chuckled, "I think this is the most ridiculous conversation we've had so far."

Blaine shrugged, "You started it."

He shoulder bumped Blaine playfully, earning a smile from the shorter boy. Having already passed the 'Skee-Ball' game, they were content with just walking along the wooden boardwalk and observing the carnival lights brighten up the brisk night. Before the night had begun, Kurt hadn't been sure he made the right decision when he agreed to spend an evening out with Blaine. Well, not that Blaine was a terrible person, quite the opposite actually. He was sweet, funny, and overtly courteous to anyone he met; plus he could SING. Blaine was—for lack of a better term—perfect. When he looked down at their still looped arms and still intertwined fingers, his heart sped up a bit. Kurt glanced back up at Blaine's face and found himself being observed by an amused looking Blaine. "Everything all right, Kurt?"

Kurt nodded stiffly, his mouth going dry at how the carnival lights playing off Blaine's eyes made them look like warm honey. "Y-Yeah, I'm just…" He tried to think of something that would stomp down the warm flush that threatened to radiate throughout his body. "…w-wondering about your job. I can't believe after all we've discussed, I still don't know what you do for a living."

_Nice save, Hummel._

Blaine stopped in his tracks and stared at Kurt with shocked, slightly worried eyes. He didn't want to tell Kurt what he did. What he did was a joke. What he did was what other people wanted him to do. "I…um…I uh…"

_**He'll make fun of me.**_

_**He'll call me a sell out.**_

_**He'll think I'm a FAKE.**_

…_**And he'd be right too.**_

He didn't want Kurt to be apart of that aspect of his life at all. Blaine just wanted to keep his relationship—erm…friendship—with Kurt as something between them, without any input, or opinions, or suggestions about the two of them from anyone. Was that too much to ask for? Is trying to keep his personal life and work life separate just too much for Blaine to hope for? "Well, I dabble a bit."

_**That's…technically not a lie.**_

Kurt tilted his head curiously, "Dabble?"

_**Think Anderson!**_

"Um…well, I'm a musician at heart, if I have to put a label on what I do. I'm still…struggling, so like all struggling artists, I tend to dabble here and there." Blaine gave a shaky smile, hoping it was convincing. From the look of the blush that spread across Kurt's cheeks, it must have.

"Oh, right. I remember; you must be quite good, though. I mean you live right across from my stepsister Rachel. Her aspiration is to one day live on the Upper East Side, swank city, and she might not be there yet, but it's a whole lot nicer than when we lived in Bushwick. It was terrible, I had to shout out random things and twitch whenever I walked around outside at night just so no one would bother me. Even when I went home to Lima, I forgot I didn't have to do it anymore. Scared the living bajeebes out of my neighbors." Kurt chuckled, self-conscious.

Blaine found himself grinning at the images Kurt painted for him in his head, "I bet you'd still make crazy look good." Kurt groaned and covered his face with hands, flattered and embarrassed all at the same time. "So…you never did tell me. What do you do?"

"Me? Um…" Kurt lowered his hands and bit his lower lip nervously, "Well, I guess I dabble a bit too. When I was in New York, I was at NYADA studying to become apart of Broadway, but uh…that obviously didn't happen for me. Then at Lima, I mostly work in my dad's tire shop."

"A Broadway, fashion-forward, mechanic. Is there anything that Kurt Hummel can't do?" Blaine said playfully.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "You're much more accomplished than I am."

_**Being considered accomplished and feeling accomplished are two very different things.**_

"So…Puck pays you to perform at the 'Pinn-Up?' "

Blaine gulped, "Not exactly. I-I actually just go up on 'Open Mic Night' for the fun of it."

_**Why have I never come up with answers for these questions before?**_

_**Oh right, no one's ever really cared to ask me…until Kurt.**_

Kurt looked at him curiously, "But then how…?"

"Come one, come all!"

The two boys immediately turned towards the booming voice, Blaine relieved at the sudden distraction and Kurt slightly startled by the loud shouting. "Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, couples and singles, feast your eyes on this magnificent 'Dunk Tank.' Isn't it something?" The person shouting was a young woman dressed in white pants with red pin stripes down the side, a red blazer, and a straw hat. She spun a tan cane between her hands and looked everything like an old school carny. "Don't be shy! Step right up and give it a try!"

Blaine tugged on Kurt's hand and dragged them over to the tank. "Oooh Kurt, look. What's that?" The woman smiled brightly at finally having caught someone's attention. "Hi ma'am!" Blaine exclaimed brightly, the awkward atmosphere that had befallen them starting to melt away due to the woman's exuberance and Blaine's sudden excitement. Kurt had to admit; even his interest was starting to become peaked.

"Well, hello there good sir! Care to try the 'Dunk Tank' challenge? If you win, you get to claim any prize you want and participating in the challenge doesn't cost you ANY credits. It's free." She smiled wickedly.

Kurt raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Free, huh? What's the catch?"

The woman slapped her knee, "Ah, I knew you were a smart one. You have that look about you. Right, well, the one who accepts the challenge doesn't have to pay credits, but your opponents do. Do you get where I'm going with this?"

Blaine bounced on the balls of feet enthusiastically as he looked at the array of prizes hanging behind the 'Dunk Tank,' he'd heard nothing past the 'any prize you want' bit.

_**I wonder if they have something Kurt might like?**_

"I'll do it! It sounds like fun." Blaine said.

"What? Blaine, do you even know what you're going to be doing?"

Blaine just smirked, "Nope, but isn't that what makes life fun?" He winked at Kurt, finding satisfaction in the fact that he can easily make the paler boy's cheeks tint pink.

"Very good sir, follow me if you will!" As Blaine was escorted to the yellow tent a few feet behind the tank, Kurt was left to wait on the boardwalk while others passed him. That…was probably a bad idea, because now he had time to think.

_Kurt, what are you doing?_

_This is how it all starts remember?_

_He's nice, he's charming, and he gets you to trust him._

_Then you find out that he's not the person he pretended to be, that he's lied to you._

_He accuses you, and forces you to…to…_

"Good Lord, it's cold!" Kurt was snapped out of his overly critical thoughts when Blaine's voice echoed in his ears. When he looked at Blaine, his jaw dropped.

_Oh…my…_

Blaine's teeth were chattering due to the cool wind licking at his exposed chest and feet as he climbed up the ladder to the tank. He was wearing only his jeans as he perched himself up on the plank that dangled him over the water. He waved at Kurt…who was just staring at him. Blaine looked down at himself, was there something wrong?

_**Is my fly open or something?**_

Kurt, on the other hand, was positively drooling. He could see Blaine's abs move and contract as he wriggled himself around on the plank. His arms were exposed and Kurt could see the muscles ripple when Blaine rubbed his hands together to keep them warm. Blaine's toned pecks and peaked nipples were giving Kurt very naughty images in his mind.

_What was I stressing about again?_

"Here, here! Come on over ladies and gents! Buy a football, hit the target, dunk the man, and win the grand prize! It's all you have to do, easy as that!" The woman said as she tapped the tank full of water with the cane.

"So how many times does he have to survive before he gets the…whatever grand-prize thingy?" Kurt inquired.

"Survive five footballs and the kid gets whatever he wants."

Kurt looked at Blaine as he just sat there, swinging his legs back and forth while he smiled like a loon. "I'll take a football."

"Yes sir!" While the woman accepted Kurt's card with carnival credits on it, Blaine felt himself grin a mischievous grin.

_**Oh, no you don't.**_

_**I wont let you dunk me that easily.**_

Blaine watched as Kurt was handed the football and positioned to stand behind the appointed line. Kurt smirked smugly at Blaine, but the tanned boy seemed unfazed. When Kurt pulled back to throw the ball, Blaine shouted, "Hey Kurt! Did I tell you, your ass looks DAMN sexy in those jeans?!" The ball left Kurt's hand, actually flew over the target, and landed somewhere near what sounded like a very startled alley cat. Kurt was beet red as he glared at an innocent looking Blaine, turning to glower at the woman gaming-vender when she started to snicker.

"Another football."

"As you wish." The woman handed Kurt another football, Blaine thinking of something else to shout that may distract Kurt.

When Kurt took a determined stance and pulled his arm back again, Blaine immediately blurted out, "Captain Sexypants, are my chiseled arms properly proportioned to my incredibly humble ego?" Again, the ball went flying. This time, it flew into someone else's gaming booth, the game's vender not looking too happy about it either.

Kurt huffed, "Hush you, no more talking!" Blaine crossed his legs, made a 'zipping my lips' motion, and placed his hands in his lap innocently. Turning towards the woman, he asked for another football. She had her lips pursed to keep from laughing as she handed Kurt his third football. Kurt was determined to look agitated; Blaine was not going to shout inappropriate things and not get soaked for it! However, on the inside, Kurt was laughing too.

Blaine watched as Kurt pulled his arm back again, he promised he wouldn't talk. "_**If you want my body, and you think I'm sexy!**_" Well, singing was a bit different from talking, right? The ball was released too late and ended up spiking into the ground.

"That's not fair! You're cheating!" Kurt said, his hands on his hips in what was suppose to be angry stance, but a smile kept threatening to play across his lips.

"But sugar, I just want you to let me know." Blaine said, that look of mock-innocence still cemented on his face.

Kurt wasn't having any of it. "Anoth—" A ball was already stretched out in front of him, the woman smiling brightly at her own helpfulness. Kurt grabbed the ball and spun it in his hand. He pointed the football at Blaine, "You're on my list, Anderson."

Blaine just chuckled, thoroughly enjoying this back and forth with Kurt. When the pale boy wound his arm back again, Blaine sang, "_**If you really need me, just reach out and touch me!**_" This time, Kurt decided to forgo aiming for the target. He shifted his aim and spiraled the ball at the obnoxious boy on the plank.

"Ack!" Blaine ducked his head warily, watching as the ball bounced off the back of the tank and landed in the water. "You meanie! That almost hit me! I-I call foul!"

Kurt stuck his tongue out at Blaine, "Just watch, the next one's gonna drop you in the water!"

"Miss Lady, can I try?" Kurt turned to where he saw a little girl about six years old looking up at the gaming vender.

The vender knelt down to her eye level, "Oh honey, this nice man was just about to use the last football. You'll have to wait until the next young person takes the 'Dunk Tank' challenge."

When the little girl wilted at the woman's statement, Kurt couldn't even think about using the last football. As much as he wanted to see Blaine get dunked…wait a minute. He gave Blaine a dangerous look, one that made Blaine narrow his eyes in suspicion, before walking over to the gaming vender. The woman stood up when Kurt walked over to her and listened as Kurt whispered in her ear for a few minutes. All the while, Blaine was getting an increasingly bad feeling. Finally—FINALLY—the woman pulled back with an equally wide smile that matched Kurt's.

_**Yup…this is bad.**_

"Well little girl, it's your lucky day. This young man needs to rest his arm, so you can use the last football." The little girl squealed with delight, eagerly fishing her carnival card out of her pants so she could give the appropriate credits to the woman. When that was done, the woman took the little girl's hand, led her to the line she had to stand behind, and gave her the football.

The little girl giggled and waved at her mom, "Mommy! Mommy! Watch me!" The mother waved back happily, and that's when Blaine knew he was screwed. There was no way he was going to try and distract an adorably cute little girl who probably just wanted a stuffed animal.

_**Damn you, Kurt.**_

The little girl stuck her tongue out in concentration as she gripped the football between her two hands and held it above her head, "Oh, wait, wait. The person who throws the last football always has to close their eyes. That's the rule." The woman said politely.

"Okay." The little girl closed her eyes, and Blaine leant forward from his seated spot.

When the little girl threw the football, Blaine heard a distinct 'psst' come from his left side. Blaine turned his head and his eyes widened. There, standing oh so innocently by the target, was Kurt. "Kurt, don't you da—" The pale boy gave Blaine a mischievous look before punching the target. The plank gave out from under Blaine and the half-naked boy yelped as the ice-cold water engulfed his entire form. The game vender going over and covering the little girl's ears as she expected a few inappropriate words might fly out of the now drenched youth's mouth. Once Blaine surfaced, the woman was proven right.

Kurt was giggling up a storm as a soaking wet, and very cold, Blaine quickly climbed out of the tank. He crossed his arms over his chest once he was on the floor and couldn't stop his teeth from chattering. "Kuuuuuurt, n-n-now I'm c-c-cold." He pouted at Kurt the best he could with his still chattering teeth.

The vender finished handing the little girl an oversized stuffed puppy that was almost as big as her—the little girl having believed that her football hit the target—before turning back to the boys. "Towels are in the tent behind you, and there is a heater that will warm you up quite nicely in there. Thank you so much for participating in our 'Dunk Tank' challenge. Sorry, you weren't able to beat it. Please try it again any time!"

Blaine stuck his tongue out at the vender before shuffling off to presumably dry himself off in the tent. The woman was just giggling at the shorter male's attempt at being irritated. "Well, he's absolutely drool-worthy. You two are the cutest couple I've ever seen."

Kurt felt himself choking on the next giggle, coughing as air went down the wrong pipe. "Um…what? He's not…I'm not…I mean we're not…" He coughed a few more times before clearing his throat. "We're just friends. That's all."

The woman tilted her head at him as she started picking up the discarded footballs, "But he's so sweet and cute. Don't you think so too?"

Kurt felt himself blush, thinking to himself that he was a whole lot more than just cute. "Um…well I…uh…Blaine! Are you done yet?! L-Lets go see something else! Hey, Bla—" The words died in Kurt's throat as he embarrassingly scuttled away from the nosy carny.

Upon entering the tent, he came across a very scantily clad Blaine Anderson. He had a towel over his head as he scrubbed away the water from his hair, and only forest green boxer-briefs on. His soaked underwear clung to his entire package so as not to leave any room for the imagination, everything was only a thin piece of fabric away from being in plain view. Even then, the fabric was so heavy with water that they came to rest sinfully low on his hips and gave Kurt a perfect view of the V leading down into Blaine's soaked briefs. Dammit, why does a half-naked Blaine always make Kurt forget what he was about to say?!

_Be strong, Kurt; be strong._

…_oh look, drops of water are skating over his abs._

"Kurt, is that you? Could you hand me another towel? This one's getting full of gel."

_Can't I just lick the water off…ah! Bad Kurt! Stop with the inappropriateness!_

* * *

A/N: So I'll get the second half of the carnival out as soon as I can, the 'Goblet Toss' is an actual game on the boardwalk and the 'Dunk Tank' challenge I just kind of made up. Hope you enjoyed it, please drop a review and make me smile? :D


	11. I Warned You

Author's Note: Ah! I know. I've been MIA for an unforgivable amount of time. My college semester is ending and I am swamped. I have no life and am stuck studying, working on projects, or writing papers. I'm trying to give you guys what I can. I mean I love you guys, your reviews and interest in this story put a smile on my face everyday. Just bear with me as I finish my semester. Don't know when the next update will be, but I sat down and gave you at least one more chapter.

I love you guys, you're all amazing, and I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.

* * *

(Chapter 11)

"I think I'm chaffing…"

"…in some VERY uncomfortable places…"

"…and I blame you."

Kurt snorted. "I didn't tell you to climb into that dunk tank. That was all you."

"You're the one who dunked me! I had that prize in the bag before you went and ruined it! That little girl didn't have a chance at dunking me for real and you know it!" Blaine pouted as he pulled at the crotch of his slightly damp jeans and winced somewhat, walking bowlegged a few steps to try and get his jeans to stop rubbing against him in certain areas.

"Oh like you needed ANOTHER stuffed unicorn." Kurt smirked.

"I do not own a stuffed unicorn!"

"Whatever, that girl was cute and I just wanted her to win." Kurt said matter-of-factly. However, when he noticed Blaine was practically fondling himself, he averted his eyes out of courtesy. "Besides, who told you to walk around in damp underwear?" He mumbled, cheeks aflame.

Blaine chuckled awkwardly at that and blushed, "Yeah, I threw those out. Only had time to dry my jeans." Kurt tripped over his own shoes and spluttered.

_W-What?_

"They weren't that important to me anyways."

…_I'm sorry, but I don't know how to process this._

"Actually, I've never gone commando before."

_He's trying to kill me, isn't he?_

"I feel so…un-constricted."

_Such a tease._

"Yoo-hoo, Kurt?" Kurt snapped out of his mental stupor. Shaking his head and closing his slightly agape mouth when Blaine was tilting his head at him, still pulling at the jeans bunching up on his upper thighs. Blaine smiled goofily at him, "Where'd you go just now?"

_In your pants._

Kurt cleared his throat, "Is that a Funhouse?"

_Wait…Funhouse?_

_Oh, it really is a Funhouse!_

_Sweet._

Blaine looked in the direction Kurt was pointing to, and his face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh…my…God. That is one of those 'Ultimate Mirror Maze' things. We're SO going." He grabbed Kurt's hand and sprinted down the lit-up boardwalk, completely forgetting about the possible chaffing that was most likely going on in his pants. Kurt blushed crimson red, staring down at the tan hand intertwined with his own as he trotted after Blaine.

_He's holding my hand._

_Oh my GAGA, he's holding my hand._

…_and it feels amazing._

Kurt 'oofed' as he collided into Blaine's back, the shorter boy having come to a sudden stop. When he looked up, Kurt saw Blaine bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. After quickly straightening up and putting a step between—Blaine's body heat doing nothing but wicked things to Kurt's lithe frame—the paler boy looked up at the warehouse type building.

_Huh…big, looks extensive too._

"Can we go in, Kurt? Huh? Can we, can we, can we, pleeeeaaaase?" Blaine pleaded, whipping out his innocent puppy-dog eyes again.

_How can he possibly go from hot and sexy to an adorable goofball in less than two seconds?_

"Um…do I have a choice?"

Blaine shook his head excitedly, "Nope! Come on, we're next! Let's go, go, go!" Kurt felt a small smile tug at his lips as Blaine fumbled for their cards with the carnival credits on them. It was getting real hard to remember why he shouldn't let himself get close to him. Blaine's excitable child-like nature was so contagious.

"Ah dammit all!" Was followed by another slew of not so nice words—damn near sailor worthy cuss words. The phrases left a young man's mouth who was dressed in much the same attire as the woman from the dunk tank, except for the scowl he was wearing as he stalked out of the entrance to 'The Ultimate Mirror Maze.' The teenager with acne was mumbling incoherently as he scowled.

Kurt cleared his throat before the guy could cuss anymore—for heaven's sake, there were children around—and the guy looked up. He composed himself, though he was still clearly irritated. "My apologies, but if you'd had the day I've had…" He threw up his hands and harrumphed.

Blaine chuckled, "Um…what happened?"

The guy glowered at the entrance; "Some douchebag just totally ran in there without paying. Cuts in front of some couple and the littler dude of the two, starts bitching me out! Saying that I let him cut in front, saying I have some aversion to them just cuz they're a gay couple. Totally stupid. The taller blonde one had to calm his date down, totally thought the little hothead was gonna deck me. Totally stupid. I mean…I couldn't care less. HE was the one that made a big deal out of everything."

Blaine frowned, "Sorry you've had such a bad day. How many credits did that guy jip you? Maybe I can cover it?" Kurt felt both his eyebrows rise in shock.

_He can't possibly be this nice, can he?_

The teenager seemed taken aback as well, "Um…uh…no, it's cool. I'll just report what happened at the end of my shift." He stared between Kurt and Blaine. Kurt feeling the teen's eyes linger on the space between them and…oh…oh! Blaine was still holding Kurt's hand, wasn't he? Kurt's cheeks heated up, why were they just standing there awkwardly again?

Blaine tilted his head, "So…can we go in 'The Ultimate Mirror Maze' now, or…?"

The kid jumped slightly, "Oh…oh! Right. Credits?" Blaine and Kurt handed over their cards, the kid swiped them with his handheld device, then handed them back. "Enjoy the maze of no return. Many have entered; few have ever made it out. The mirrors have created illusions for many; nothing is hidden from the land of mirrors. Be careful of the secrets you reveal, for mirrors reflect all. Beware of the stones you throw, for the reflection you break may be your own. Alone you are not in this maze, surrounded by yourself is what you are." The teenager said ominously in a mock-spooky voice, his hands waving around in a ghost-like manner.

Kurt and Blaine just stared.

The kid shrugged, "I demean myself for money."

"Yes, the maze enter we will." Kurt said in his best Yoda impression, completely deadpanned expression on his face. Blaine snorting out a laugh.

"Oh haha, you're so funny." The teenager rolled his eyes and huffed, "ANYWAY, enter and be cautious. Twenty-five paths there are to take in this maze, but not all reach the end. Choose wisely." Blaine and Kurt heard this as they entered the maze. Followed by a less ominous, "And don't break, write on, or lick any of the mirrors. Yes, it happens. Please refrain from doing so, much obliged!"

Blaine smiled wide as they entered the maze. Black light lit, mirrors in every direction—some of them they bumped into in mistake of a path—and dub-step music vibrating throughout the warehouse. "This is so awesome."

Kurt huffed as he thumped into another mirror, feeling especially neon in all the black light glory. Seeing a reflection of himself made him glower. "I look like Casper the pasty ghost."

"You're the cutest ghost I've ever seen." It even sounded like Blaine was giving him a cheeky smile around his words.

Kurt felt himself blushing again, looking down to avoid eye contact, when he collided with another mirror. "Shit!"

Blaine chuckled as he eyed Kurt, walking straight into another mirror as well. "Ow! Kuuurt, I hits my nose." He said and pouted, rubbing at his squished nose.

"This was your—Eep!—idea!"

"No—Ack! Yup, that's another dead-end—you pointed out this place."

"Well, excuse…hey! Where are you going?"

Blaine looked over his shoulder and saw that Kurt was going in a different direction. "Wait, where are you going? This looks like a better turn to take."

Kurt shook his head, "Oh no, you keep running us into mirrors. We're going this way."

"Do not, and I say this way is better."

"No, this way!"

"This way!"

"I bet my way is the way to the exit." Kurt said, arms crossed and hip jutted out in a stubborn fashion.

Blaine smirked, "Care to make a wager on that?" Kurt narrowed his eyes in suspicion while Blaine just smiled wider. "Or are you not that confident in your directional instincts?"

Kurt let out a dry laugh, "You wish. What's the bet?"

Putting a finger to his chin, Blaine thought for a moment, and then a mischievous glint sparkled in his hazel eyes. Needless to say, it made Kurt a little wary. He slinked up next to Kurt and whispered in his ear, "If I make it to the exit before you, you agree to go out on a real date with me." When Blaine pulled back, he saw Kurt's eyes were wide and his jaw was hanging open in shock. "Unless, you're scared. Scared that my superior sense of direction will put you to shame that is."

Snapping his mouth shut, Kurt set his jaw. "Scared, huh? We'll see about that Mr. Man Without the Product." Kurt said as he lightly ruffled Blaine's still slightly damp curls.

Blaine whined and batted Kurt's hands away, "Hey, you are not permitted to touch!" Kurt flicked one more curl out of Blaine's eyes; Blaine just stuck his tongue out at Kurt. "So do we have a deal or not?"

Kurt watched as Blaine outstretched his hand to 'shake on it,' and he stared at it for a moment. Suddenly, he placed his hand in Blaine's and gave it one firm shake. "Oh, it's on."

"Like Donkey Kong."

"…I'll just pretend I didn't hear that."

"What? Why? What I say?"

Kurt rolled his eyes good-naturally and waved behind him as he headed down his chosen path, leaving Blaine to go his own way. "Never mind!"

Blaine chuckled to himself, determined to win and get the chance to really impress Kurt. "Hey…Hey, wait! Kurt! What happens if YOU win?"

He heard a distant chuckle before, "I guess you'll just have to let me win to find out!"

_**Oh no you don't, Kurt Hummel.**_

Blaine was having none of that. He turned on his heels and hurried down his own path. He was going to win, and he was going to prove to everyone that he was so much more than he appeared…erm…prove to Kurt that he was more than he appeared. Yeah, he meant to say Kurt.

_**Really?**_

_**How do I keep running into myself?**_

Staring at his reflection, Blaine huffed. He needed to get himself together if he was going to reach the exit first. For the next five minutes the boy turned down ways, pushed through opening mirror doors, and smacked into more mirrors than he cared to admit. He knew that everything was basically going to look the same, but seriously, everything looked the FREAKING same!

"Maybe I should have just gone with Kurt…" he mumbled bashfully to himself. Blaine walked down another path filled with mirrors, the dub step music pounding in his ears and his palms sweating at how hot the place actually was. Just as Blaine was about to turn down another way, something flashed across some mirrors. Looking up, Blaine was able to see something peach reflect back at him from a different path.

_**Oh thank God, maybe it's another person.**_

_**I was starting to get paranoid about the whole, 'many enter few leave' thing.**_

Blaine abandoned his path and ventured down the one the peach figure had taken. When he bounded around the corner, Blaine was able to catch a flash of light hair, jeans, and…a faded peach jacket! "Whoa…hey! Hey!" He shouted, picking up his pace as he ran after the dodging reflection. "Hey mister!" Blaine reached the end of the path and turned down the one he believed the person to have gone. Reflections of a jean-clad limb taking another turn was caught in Blaine's peripheral vision again. "I just want to ask if you know the way out!" He followed the person down the narrow way of mirrors before taking a last turn. When he rounded the corner, he saw a revolving door of mirrors, and it was spinning slowly, like someone had just gone through.

_**Shit…a stranger chasing after another stranger in a Funhouse full of mirrors must not look at all sane.**_

_**Must have scared the crap out of the guy.**_

_**Way to go, Blaine…way to go.**_

Cautiously, Blaine was making his voice soft and placating. "Um…sorry if I came off a little brash." Blaine put his hand on one of the revolving mirrors and pushed as he followed after it to walk through. "See, I made a bet with a friend…I bet I could make it to the end before he could." He chuckled, still slowly walking through the revolving door. "And well, I'm obviously not getting anywhere near the exit. I have the bruises to prove it, so do you think you could maybe—I don't know—point a guy to the exit? I'd be ever so grateful." Blaine finished off, exiting the revolving mirrors with a full-blown smile on his face, most people liked when he smiled after all.

"Oh…I'm talking to no one. Great…" Blaine frowned as he looked around the dead-end. Unlike most of the others he'd found himself running into today, this one had no mirrors. The music was still vibrating through the walls, and the black light was still encompassing the room. Though, this time the walls were painted blue and the black light caused the color to give the entire room, Blaine included, a neon-blue hue. Blaine scowled at the empty room, dead-ends were seriously getting on his nerves now. How was this supposed to be fun again?

_**Seriously, I thought I saw someone go in here.**_

Turning around, Blaine put his hand on one of the revolving mirrors and pushed.

It didn't budge.

_**What the?**_

Blaine pushed again, a little harder this time.

Nothing.

_**Hehe…this is a joke, right?**_

The not panicking boy—he wasn't panicking, he seriously wasn't—used both his hands to push on the mirror. When it didn't move an inch, Blaine's breathing started to pick up. Quickening breaths started to come in and out through his nose. He banged on the glass, hoping someone out there would hear the knocking. "Hello! Can someone hear me? This mirror thing is stuck! I can't…ugh…it won't budge!" Blaine knocked again; something about this whole situation was starting to feel seriously wrong. An uneasy feeling started to stir in his gut. He was just about to kick at the mirror when he glanced down and—

**Blaine**

A white piece of folded up paper caught Blaine's attention. It was on the floor. It had his name on it. His name was written in what looked like an attempt at elegant print, but just came out as hasty and messy.

_**Okay…now I'm majorly creeped out.**_

Hesitantly, Blaine bent down and picked up the note. His heart pounded in his chest, a sense of déjà vu flitting across his mind at the discovery of the crisp white paper. Swallowing unsurely, Blaine opened the note. His heart dropped into his stomach when he saw those same types of magazine cutout letters pasted across the white paper. Except this time, they had a different message to give.

**I WARNED YOU**

Fisting the paper in hands so it crumbled, Blaine turned towards the mirror door again and pounded with renewed fervor. Something red-hot boiling in Blaine's veins as he tried to make his knocking louder than the dub step music. He wasn't worried about himself as much anymore. He was worried about what the person who trapped him in here might do to Kurt. It was obvious now; it was obvious that the first note was indeed telling Blaine to back off of Kurt. The fact that he didn't and the fact that he was now trapped inside a stupid mirror maze was proof of that. However, Blaine didn't have time to think about how irrational or insane his newfound need to protect a guy he'd just met might seem to others. There was only one thing going through his mind.

_**Don't you dare hurt Kurt.**_

_**Don't you fucking dare.**_

It was a good thing that Blaine wasn't within hearing distance of Kurt, who was on the opposite end of the funhouse from Blaine. The pounding of the dub step music and the sounds of Blaine's own scrabbling to escape his confines were drowning out any chance of hearing Kurt. Though, if he had been in the same area…

He would have heard Kurt scream.

* * *

A/N: And evil cliffhanger. Sorry I have to leave you like this for a while. But I promise I'll get back as soon as I can! Until then, how about reviewing? :D


	12. Italian Vogue and Blowjobs

Author's Note: Ah! I know, excuse, excuse, excuse. Blah, Blah, Blah. Anyways, semester's over. Summer is here. Which means updates should be more regular(-ish). So yay! And everyone's reviews are phenomenal! Every single one of them puts a smile on my face. So yeah. Next chapter. Here it is. I love you all!

Enjoy!

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.

* * *

(Chapter 12)

Blaine sniffled helplessly as he slid down the mirror he had been banging on, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. The hazel-eyed boy didn't know what to do. He pushed, he banged, he kicked, but the mirror barely wobbled under his efforts. What else could he do? Blaine let out a frustrated noise before banging his head back against the stubborn mirror, gazing up at the peeling paint on the ceiling.

_**The hell?**_

Blaine scrambled up off the floor and narrowed his eyes at something that was wedged between the ceiling and the top of the revolving mirror door. He couldn't tell what it was, but he knew that must have been stuffed up there by someone. Someone who wanted to keep Blaine preoccupied for…some reason.

_**Kurt…**_

The frustrated boy jumped up with outstretched arms, trying to reach whatever it was keeping the door in place. When his fingers lightly brushed the wedged object, he growled in frustration. Damn his abnormally miniature height! He jumped again, only managing to rip off a piece of the...paper? Opening his hands, Blaine stared down at the contents in his hands. His eyes widened.

_**Did someone actually stuff a fucking Vogue magazine up there?**_

_**Seriously?!**_

He stared down at the ripped off cover, only a portion of the Italian Vogue title visible, but Blaine had read enough of their issues to recognize the magazine for what it was. Besides the fact that it was a terrible way to use a perfectly good Vogue magazine, it would certainly be thick enough to cram into a small space tightly. No wonder the door didn't move, the magazine was over a hundred pages! Peering up at the stuffed crease between ceiling and mirror, Blaine couldn't help but notice that whoever trapped him in here must have been taller than him. By how much, he couldn't be sure.

_**Crap.**_

Leveling his eyes with his own reflection, Blaine stared at himself for a moment. Something in Blaine solidifying as a decision was made. Blaine pulled his brindle sweater over his head, then he removed the muscle shirt that had been under is sweater. He stared at himself one more time, mentally apologizing to the teenager who would undoubtedly have to deal with the aftermath of Blaine's idea. He quickly pulled his sweater back on and wrapped the muscle shirt around his fist tightly.

_**Sorry kid.**_

Before Blaine could second guess himself, he reeled back his cloth covered fist and smashed it forward with every once of strength he could muster in that one punch.

_**Fuck!**_

He winced as the collision sent a bolt of pain up his arm, the cracking of mirror under his covered up knuckles kept Blaine going forward though. He reeled back again and collided his fist into the same spot; more spider-web cracks stretching across the glass. When he caught a glimpse at his own reflection, he saw that there was a crack cutting his reflection's face in half. Well, that wasn't freaking metaphorical at all!

_**Stupid mirror.**_

_**Break dammit!**_

Blaine shot his fist out again, the pain only a dull throb now that he had some adrenaline coursing through him. Then, with one more well aimed punch, his fist busted through. Pieces of the mirror crackled to the floor, Blaine wasting no time to kick and punch more of the mirror out. Once he was able to fit his body through the gaping hole of the revolving mirror, he quickly ducked through. Dropping the shirt from around his fist, Blaine took off.

_**Just please let Kurt be ok.**_

The pounding music was starting to give Blaine a headache, and the random turns he took down more of the mirrored hallways was really starting to piss him off. He was in too much of hurry and in too much—

_**Hell yes!**_

_**Neon yellow arrow pointing to the exit!**_

Blaine ran out of the exit and skidded to a halt to look out at the boardwalk.

_**Come on, come on, come on.**_

There weren't that many people left on the boardwalk because it was so late at night, but Blaine still didn't see Kurt.

_**Kurt, where are you?**_

Taking off in a jog, Blaine whipped his head around to look at the games that were closing up and the food stands that were being put away; still no sign of Kurt.

"Kurt!"

"Kurt are you out here?!"

Some of the slower-to-leave carnival goers gave him weird expressions for looking kind of crazy, but other than that no one paid him any attention. Coming to a slow stop, Blaine put his hands on his knees from being out of breath. He panted and mentally kicked himself for ever letting Kurt out of his sight. What if he was hurt? What if he was scared? What if someone had him and was doing horrible things to—

"Hello!"

Blaine shouted in surprise when a hand shot out from the photo booth right next to him to reveal a brown stuffed puppy with big brown eyes being waved in front of his face feverishly.

"I'm Margaret Thatcher Dog."

The sudden appearance caused Blaine to jerk back so fast that he fell backwards and landed on his back with a loud thump, left on the wooden boardwalk floor to stare up dazedly at the dangling stuffed puppy.

"My relationship with the queen was…ruff!"

Then someone was pulling back the curtain to reveal piercing blue eyes, porcelain skin, and a teasing smile.

_**KURT!**_

Kurt giggled, "Look what I won you playing 'Skee-ball!' " He cuddled the stuffed puppy under his chin and pouted, tilting head adorably as he stared down at Blaine on the floor. "You were taking so long in that maze that I just had to find something to do. Then I came across this little guy hanging up behind one of the gaming venders." He turned the pup to look at him in the eye before looking back at Blaine. "The wide-eyed puppy look made me think of you. Plus I thought you deserved a consolation prize once I realized that I won our little bet. So I…won it…to give to you." Kurt blushed, hiding his mouth behind the puppy as crimson colored his cheeks.

_**H-He's okay?**_

"Kurt, are you…are you okay? I-I thought…" Wait, what could he actually tell Kurt? That someone locked him in a room? That he busted through a mirror in hopes that he'd find Kurt unharmed and untouched by…whomever? What sane explanation could he possibly come up with right now?

The glasz-eyed boy groaned and hid his face further into the stuffed animal. "Oh my gosh, please don't tell me you heard me scream. I didn't think it was that load."

_**Scream?**_

Blaine was on his feet in an instant, holding Kurt by the shoulders and looking at the taller boy in concern. One of Blaine's hands slid up to cup Kurt's face, something that made Kurt gasp and look at Blaine with wide eyes. "What happened?"

Kurt felt himself shudder at the intense warmth emanating from the hand on his soft cheek. The intimate contact caught Kurt off guard, but was not entirely unwanted. "Um…I…I saw." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to slow down his suddenly staccato heartbeat. When he opened them again, he found those same hazel-honey eyes burrowing into his own. "It's really stupid actually. I rounded a corner and some guy was going down on another guy."

_**That's all?**_

"It was unexpected."

_**So…you're okay?**_

"I mean, really? It's a Funhouse. Who the hell thinks 'oh, this looks like a nice place to give a guy a blowjob, can't possibly be caught here.' Yeah…no, that's not my cup of tea. But that's just me." Kurt bit his lip when Blaine just stared at him. "Hence the…the scream. It was embarrassing actually." Blaine stared at Kurt, a calculating look on his face. Like he was trying to work something out in his head, and Kurt wasn't quite sure what it was.

_I must have freaked him out with the whole rambling thing._

_And the blowjob thing._

_Oh SHIT! I said the word 'blowjob' to him._

_Oh my Gaga, I can't believe I said that._

_How the hell is he supposed to respond to that?_

_No wonder he looks…okay, I actually have no idea what that look is._

"I'm taking you back to your apartment."

_Huh?_

"It's getting pretty late."

"Uh…" Kurt made a few unintelligible noises as he tried to find something to say. The abrupt change in subject throwing him for a loop. "Y-Yeah, sure. Thank you."

Blaine just nodded and guided Kurt towards the exit by tugging on his elbow. Kurt noticed that Blaine was a bit more…anxious maybe? He just wasn't sure why.

* * *

"Thank you. For taking me to the boardwalk I mean. It was…really fun." Kurt said bashfully, shifting from foot to foot and looking down at the concrete sidewalk in front of his building while he coddled Thatcher Dog in his arms.

Blaine nodded absently, mind replaying the events from the evening. The room, the note, the fact that whoever this actually was knew his name, knew where he lived. It was getting pretty intense.

_**I WARNED YOU**_

Did Blaine really want to complicate his life more with this? Someone trapped him in a room, made him bust through a fucking mirror. Like what the hell? Who DOES that?

"Blaine?"

Blaine looked up, his mind snapping back to the present. Oh crap, had Kurt been talking to him this whole time? Whether or not he was on the fence about—whatever he might have with Kurt—doesn't mean he should space on Kurt; so rude. Blaine was taught better than that. "Oh…sorry. Just thinking, I guess."

Kurt gave a hesitant smile, tilting his head to catch Blaine's eye when the curly haired boy looked away again. Something warmed in Kurt's chest when he stared at this man, and it was something that Kurt decided he wasn't ready to let go of yet. "Blaine."

Blaine looked up again, and his overthinking mind shut down. Kurt's lips pressed against his softly. A light pressure that made Blaine's eyes shoot wide open in shock, while Kurt's fluttered closed in ecstasy. Blaine stood there, eyes fixed on the slightly obscure features of ivory skin so close to his vision. His fidgety guarded posture seemed to melt into a warm jelly feeling, a breath of relief escaping from his nose that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Just when Blaine was about to reciprocate, Kurt pulled back, and an embarrassing whimper may have slipped out of Blaine's mouth. Just maybe, but not really, okay it did.

Kurt pulled back with a flushed look on his face, blue eyes big and somewhat scared. "I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have done that. It was just…you were just…and we were just. I-I…"

The shorter boy didn't wait for another explanation. He put his hands on Kurt's chest and backed him up against the side of the building next to the entrance of Kurt's building. Blaine attacked Kurt's mouth with his own. A heated kiss that caused Kurt to gasp into Blaine's lips, effectively parting them for Blaine's own advantage. Kurt dropped Thatcher Dog and clung his hands to Blaine's shoulders, needing to hold on to something before his legs gave out from the sheer pleasure coursing through him. Blaine groaned into Kurt's mouth, his hand sliding down Kurt's chest to grip his slim hips and press their bodies flush against each other. The pair moved their mouths together, both incessantly pushing and wanting more. Kurt keened when Blaine's hot tongue started swirling around his own, the grip on Blaine's shoulders tightening as he sucked on the wet muscle. Blaine groaning and his hips hitching forward to rub against Kurt's leg because kissing Kurt just felt phenomenal. They pulled apart with a wet smack, Kurt breathing heavily as he stared at Blaine's dark eyes tinted with arousal. He was so hot, and Blaine just made him feel things; things that Kurt hadn't been able to feel with another person in so long. Kurt was about to open his mouth, to ask Blaine if he maybe want to walk Kurt up to his/Rachel and Finn's apartment, but then—

"Yeah, whaddya want!?"

Kurt squeaked at the unexpected gravely voice coming from behind him. A giggle wanting to crawl up his throat when he realized that his head had pressed one of the call buttons to one of his neighbors' apartments. He let his head fall forward onto Blaine's shoulder as he muffled out his chuckles. "Sorry Mrs. Tracey! It was an accident. It won't happen again."

"Who is this?"

"It's Kurt from next door."

"I know no Kurt from next door. Who are you? Why are you calling me? Leave me alone!"

Mrs. Tracey must have stepped away from the buzzer because that was the last thing she said to them. "Well, Mr. Tracey seems friendly."

Kurt smacked Blaine's shoulder lightly, "That was a woman Blaine!"

Blaine laughed outright. "You're kidding, right?"

"She smokes a lot, now let her be." Kurt giggled, nuzzling further into Blaine's neck as he fiddled with the neck of Blaine's sweater. "I should…probably go upstairs now." He said, pulling away reluctantly from Blaine's embrace.

Blaine nodded, quirking his lips into a fond smile. "All right."

Kurt nodded back, clearing his throat at the sudden awkwardness he felt. He turned towards the entrance to the building, but then a hand on his shoulder stopped him. When Kurt turned back around, he found Blaine giving him a cheeky smile and holding up the stuffed animal he won. "Can't forget Margaret Thatcher Dog."

The paler boy laughed, taking the stuffed animal and stroking it's brown head. "No, you keep it. I got it for you, remember?"

When Kurt held out the puppy for Blaine to take, Blaine just smiled back, accepting his new little friend. "Oh, and Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"I never told you what I'd get, since I won our bet that is."

"Oh, and what would that be?"

Kurt stepped close to Blaine and whispered into his ear, "That the next time we go out on a date, I choose what we do." Before Kurt pulled back completely, he kissed the side of Blaine's mouth. He took pride in the fact that he could see Blaine looking utterly stunned, but not in a bad way.

"This was a date?"

"Well, I don't just go around kissing every guy I meet." Kurt cupped Blaine's face and gave him one more, quick kiss. God, after one kiss he was already hooked on those lips. Then he pulled back and waved one last goodbye before entering his building. Kurt took the elevator up to Rachel and Finn's apartment, opened the door and then closed it behind him. He thumped his back against it and couldn't contain himself anymore as his feet jumped up and down excitedly. Kurt did a little squeal and covered his mouth before any of his neighbors could hear him. He didn't care if he looked like a schoolgirl after her very first date. Blaine was perfect, and amazing, and Kurt couldn't keep the thousand-watt smile off his face. Yeah, Kurt definitely wanted to see Blaine again.

Meanwhile, Blaine gazed up at the midnight sky from his apartment terrace staircase. Thatcher Dog settled on his chest in a way that made Blaine seem more like a kid than a person in his early twenties. Kurt's face beamed in his mind, the cute way he scrunched up his nose when he giggled, how his hands always seemed to come near his mouth when he was embarrassed, and especially the way his face looked flushed from kissing with half-lidded eyelids. Blaine knew there was no turning back now. He'd gotten a glimpse of how special Kurt was, and he wasn't about to let anyone tell him he couldn't unravel the rest of the wondrous things that made up Kurt Hummel. Blaine Anderson knew he was a pushover, but this? This was going to be something he wouldn't back down from. "Do your worst, because I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

Blaine raised an eyebrow when his phone then vibrated. Rolling his eyes when he saw Wes texting him in all caps letters, as if that would make the message more urgent.

_**WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! WE HAVE AN AUDITION FOR A PAYING GIG IN THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS! GET TO THE LOFT IMMEDIATELY! WE ARE GOING TO PRACTICE UNTIL EVERYONE BLEEDS MUSIC NOTES! –Wes (–ley Snipes)**_

Blaine huffed in exasperation. He pocketed his phone and trudged slowly through his apartment to gather his instruments and clothes for next few days. When Wes got like this, the band was kind of on lock down at their practice loft until after their gig or audition was over. Blaine would just have to tell Kurt that he was helping out a friend with something or whatever, hoping to postpone their next date. A date he was really, REALLY looking forward to by the way.

Blaine scrambled through his apartment, mentally cursing every time another one of Wes' all caps messages was sent. Unaware that a figure was watching him and that a sickly slow smile was spreading across the figure's face as the person answered Blaine's earlier statement with, "I plan to."

* * *

A/N: Aaaaand scene! Haha so what did you think? Leave me a review with your thoughts and make me smile? Please? :D


	13. Gay Pride

Author's Note: Yay! Another chapter! And this one is a doozy. A lot of stuff happens, so I hope it doesn't get too chaotic! Plus, one of the songs that inspired this story is in this chapter, so eep!

Side Note: Next update won't be until June. (Sorry!) Taking a short trip for the week. Though, I'm hoping to update 'Hear Me Now' before I leave.

I love you all, and be back as soon as I can!

***Warning***: Brief smut in this.

Song explanation:

**(Nick and Jeff)** (Parentheses/Bold)

**Blaine** (Bold)

Hope you like it and it makes sense! Let me know if it doesn't!

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.J.

* * *

(Chapter 13)

Blaine gripped his hair as he leant over the dresser, his elbows holding him up, his body shaking with the effort it took to keep himself from screaming. He was tired, so tired, up for almost two days now. Nonstop practicing and being criticized by his so called friends. He was doing everything they had told him to do, why was it never enough? He's wearing the ungodly-tight black jeans, studded black belt, combat boots, and their band shirt that read 'Pav's Last Song'; all specially picked out by the one called Wes. Blaine didn't mind it. He really didn't. They're just clothes, just clothes. They don't define him. It's a costume, that's all it is.

"Puck is gonna be here any minute! Where the hell are Jeff and Nick?!" Wes screamed from the other side of the loft's closed bedroom door.

Blaine picked up his head then, wiping at his wet tired eyes. The way he looked in the mirror was dreadful. His face was scruffy all to hell, Wes had told him not to shave because it gave him a harder, more believably rugged edge. Like really, he couldn't even shave now? Blaine quickly grabbed a wipe and cleaned up his eyes a bit, he didn't feel like getting talked at because he smudged his eyeliner (again). Giving up on that, he just wiped it all off and reapplied the black liner, cursing several different deities when he poked his eye none too gently. Throwing the pencil somewhere, Blaine looked back in the mirror and let out a pitiful whimper. He reached up to his once bouncy black curls and ran his fingers through his straightened coarse hair. Eyes welling up with tears at the memory of the hot steamy metal pressing his hair into these starched lifeless stands.

_**Wes, I don't really want—**_

_**Nonsense, everyone else has their hair straightened.**_

_**Bu-But no one else's hair is curly.**_

_**It's not my fault your hair is a wild mess. Trust me. It'll be great.**_

_**I…I could always gel it into something tasteful, and tamed.**_

_**Gel is so out. Straight hair? In.**_

_**Can I at least have a nap after this?**_

_**And ruin my work on your hair? I'll get you some more coffee after this.**_

_**It'll be real quick and I'll be real careful, I promise.**_

_**Puck will be here in a couple hours! We don't have time for naps!**_

…_**if you say so.**_

"Blaine? Wes and David said Puck is here. Are you…ready?"

Blaine looked up with a gasp as he was taken out of his thoughts. Blinking a couple of times, he cleared his throat and smoothed down his hair over his forehead. "H-Hey, Trent. Yeah, I'm good. Ready to rock his socks off?" He said, hollow smile firmly in place as he turned towards his friend.

Trent gave an unsure half-smile, walking over and putting a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "I know Wes has been kind of a control-freak, but he always lightens up after stuff like this is over and done with."

_**Maybe to you guys.**_

"Blaine, I know you think nobody notices how…off…you've been these last few weeks, but Jeff and I have. And…well…here." Trent thrust a small slip of paper into Blaine's unprepared hands.

Blaine caught the paper as it slipped out of his hands before it could flutter to the ground. He furrowed his brows at it for a moment, and then unfolded the slip. "I don't understand."

Trent smiled slightly, "It's a time slot. You know, for an audition."

Blaine snapped his eyes up in shock. "W-What?"

"You didn't think I'd forget, did you? Broadway was all you ever talked about when we were at Dalton." Then his smile dampened. "It was what you really wanted to do out here, not THIS." Trent scrunched his nose up, motioning to the chaos that was probably bustling behind them in the other room.

"No, no, I can't. I mean…how did you even get one of these? You hate Broadway."

Trent just waved his hand dismissively at him. "Remember Thad from The Warblers? I still keep in touch with him. I few weeks ago he told me his friend's father had just invested in helping produce a new musical written by…Chaz Loreman? I think. Anyways, Thad said they're holding auditions in a couple weeks to find their cast. I asked if maybe he could see to reserving a spot for a new-faced talent, and…I guess 'new' was what the casting crew wanted."

_**He literally has no idea how big this is, does he?**_

Blaine's brain short-circuited for a moment. In the next second, he grabbed Trent by the shoulders and forcibly shook him. "Baz Luhrmann…are you trying to tell me, BAZ LUHRMANN is the writer of this musical?"

_**No…no…it can't be.**_

_**When has my luck ever been anything but shit?**_

_**Th-This is too good to be true.**_

Trent nodded and snapped his fingers in recognition. "Oh! Oh, yeah! That was his name, and I think the musical was going to be called…uh."

"Trent, oh my God, if you say 'Moulin Rouge' I may actually kiss you."

"Oh, ew dude, no. I love you and all, but just not like that."

"Trent!"

Trent chuckled, "I could have sworn he said Moldy Scrooge the first time around. However, I do believe Thad said it was for 'Moulin Rouge,' but don't go spreading that around! This thing is like…by invitation only, closed audition sort of thing."

Blaine enveloped his friend in a hug, lifting the boy up off the ground for a few seconds before setting him back down. The genuine happiness slipped from his face once again as he looked over Trent's shoulder anxiously. "What about you guys? I don't think the others would be all too happy or understanding with me even considering this."

Trent snorted. "Then I guess we just won't tell the others, will we?" Blaine felt himself smiling again, eyes tearing up. "It's just an audition, Blaine. Something to think about and look forward to when the others turn into complete asses." Trent patted his shoulder again, "You're my friend, Blaine. I'm sorry if I sometimes haven't acted like it."

Blaine just let out a wet chuckle and stuffed the slip into his pocket. "Trent, this…this is awesome. And you? You are awesome." Trent beamed, nearly bouncing in his checkerboard sneakers. Blaine hooked an arm around his friend's shoulders, walking his way towards the door. "Now, lets get out there before Wes finds that damn gavel and throws it at our heads." Before the pair could enter the other room, Blaine halted them for a second. "Oh, wait! Everybody was good with the song I suggested, right?"

Trent nodded vigorously, happy to see Blaine finally have a little bit of a lively bounce back in his step. "Oh, sure! Neither Wes nor David cared. They said as long as you nailed it, they were good with it."

"Jeff and Nick?"

"Pfft, Jeff was happy as a clam, and when has Nick ever cared about something that didn't directly have anything to do with him?"

_**I guess I should be grateful for being allowed this much.**_

"Oh…well, let's go play some killer chords then." Blaine smirked, the note in his pocket giving him hope for the first time in months. Well, besides the hope he felt when he was with a certain blue-eyed beauty.

* * *

_**Hey ;) –B.A.**_

_**Uh oh. Winky face. Someone's feeling flirty. :P –Kurt**_

_**Only with you. :D –B.A.**_

_**Don't I feel special! ^-^ -Kurt**_

_**Lol! Btw, I'm really looking forward to our date tomorrow night. –B.A.**_

_**Are you? :) **__** -Kurt**_

_**Yes! Thanks again for being so cool with the whole reschedule thing. You're wonderful. –B.A.**_

_**Hah! I made you blush, didn't I? –B.A.**_

_**No! -Kurt**_

_**Maybe… -Kurt**_

_**You're adorable you know that? –B.A.**_

_**Crap! I gotta go. I'll call you tonight once I'm back in town. Oh, the glamour of being a roadie! XOXO –B.A.**_

_**Real hugs and kisses to come when I actually see you. ;) –B.A.**_

"Kurt, if you smile any wider I'm gonna see the scars from where your wisdom teeth used to be."

Kurt jerked his head up and blushed, pocketing his phone after he may or may not have been reading through his earlier text message conversations with Blaine for the fifth time that day. "Whatever Noah, you're the one who dragged me along with you. I still can't see why you couldn't have brought Jake." He rolled eyes again, staring up at the building they were entering.

"Jake is getting things ready to open the bar up for tonight, and I swear if you call me Noah one more time…"

"Suck it, Puckerman. You're not going to do jack."

"Damn, what happened to all you gays being happy and nice? You're just snippy and mean."

Kurt let out a short chuckle. "You did not just say 'all you gays.' We're not a pride of lions."

Puck laughed and clapped Kurt on the back as they stepped into the elevator and ascended up to floor Puck had an appointment on. "Oooh that would make y'all a 'Gay Pride,' huh?"

"Oh my Gaga, stop. Just stop talking. That was an unnecessary use of your mouth."

"Wow, insert dirty joke here."

"I'm this close to ripping out your other nipple ring."

"Jeez, what's the matter with you, Hummel? Forget to take your butt plug out this morning?"

Kurt turned beat red and forcibly shoved at Puck's shoulder, glaring when he just smirked cockily at him. "That's vulgar…and you were WAY too comfortable saying that statement."

Puck chuckled, "That wasn't a no…"

"Shut it!"

When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Kurt briskly exited while Puck just walked nonchalantly. "So…who's the guy sending you cutie texts and making your heart go all a twitter with rainbow love."

"We are not having this conversation."

"Aww is little Kurtie blushing?"

"I'm ignoring you."

"Kurtie wants to do the nasty with Mr. Texting."

"Keep your voice down, there are other people in this hallway. Hi, how you doing? I don't know him. Call the police." Kurt smiled; waving to a little old lady he passed who looked absolutely horrified by their banter.

"You know you like me. We're practically family thanks to Finn."

"You know that makes you related to Rachel too, right?"

Puck gasped, "That's a terrible thing to say! Take it back!"

Kurt chuckled, getting a mischievous glint in his glasz eyes. "If you and Finn are practically brothers, then Rachel is practically your SISTER."

"You horrible, horrible little elf."

"Puck! You're here—" The door to the loft they'd been arguing in front of swung open, revealing an overly excited young black male. "And…Finn? He's back from his honeymoon."

"He did not just call me Finn. I'm offended."

Puck rolled his eyes, "No, Finn is still vacationing with his psycho wife."

"Careful, that's our sister you're talking about." Kurt reminded, a smirk in his voice.

"THIS is Kurt 'Lady' Hummel…"

"Parole miscreant."

Puck made a crude gesture towards Kurt, smirking when Kurt just rolled his eyes at him. Their friendship was odd, to say the least, because acting as if they actually liked each other would be too dull for a couple of guys like them. "…and he is Finn's step-brother. He's here to give a second opinion on the band."

"Against my will I might add. He threatened my designer wardrobe with a paintball gun."

The guy at the door stared at them for a moment, "Are you two…like…together?"

Kurt blanched, "Ew, no."

"No, if I was gay I could do better." The next thing Puck knew was that his cheek hurt and he was yelping in pain. "You slapped me!"

"Damn right! I'm a catch and you know it."

Puck huffed out a breath as rubbed at his sore cheek, "Yeah, ok. I deserved that one. You're a catch, one in a million, blah, blah, blah." He said in an unconvincing tone.

"Exactly. Now, what was your name again?" Kurt asked, Puck glaring at how he was suddenly all polite.

"Um…David?"

"David, that's a nice name. Would you kindly point me towards you bathroom?" Kurt smiled cheerily. David raised his hand wordlessly and pointed to it.

"Thank you."

"Kiss-ass."

"Bite me, Puckerman!" Kurt said loudly as he made his way towards the bathroom, hearing as Puck conversed more with that David character and some other frantic voice shout for an apparently missing Jeff and Nick. Kurt pushed on the appointed bathroom door, wriggling the doorknob a couple times until it let him in when he wasn't able to do so on the first try. The door shut closed behind him, but he didn't hear it because what he saw next made his jaw drop.

"Oh God, Nicky…please."

"Yeah, you like that, don't you? Love begging me to give it to you."

"Nicky…" The blonde bent over the bathroom sink whined. "I need to come."

The brunette groaned, "How can I do anything when you keep fucking yourself on my cock?"

Kurt covered his eyes and squeaked. Wondering how the hell he can catch the same couple in a sexual act within the same week. The slapping of skin was heard again and Kurt realized he still had not been noticed. "Oh my God! You realize someone else is in here too, right?!"

The groaning and slapping immediately stopped, "Jeff, I thought you locked the fucking door?!"

The other male, presumable Jeff, keened. "I…I can't…I can't think when your pressing right up on my prostate." A loud squelching sound that echoed off the tiles was heard—Nick most likely pulling out, not that Kurt wanted to look to be certain—followed by Jeff whimpering pitifully at the motion. Rustling was heard, multiple mumbled curses, and zippers being done up. "Holy shit. Nicky, isn't he the one who saw us in the mirror place a few days ago?"

Kurt, peeking through his fingers, let out a breath of relief when he saw that they both had their clothes back on and were decent. "I was just thinking the same thing."

Nick narrowed his eyes, "What, do you have some voyeur kink or something? What the hell are you even doing here? Like…in this building…in this specific loft?"

Kurt put down his hands and smoothed out his cardigan. "I came here with Puck. The guy who's bar you guys are auditioning for?"

Both the boys' eyes widened as they quickly smoothed out their rumbled, most likely sweaty, clothes. "Holy crap, he's here already?"

Jeff frowned, "Wes is going to chew us out so bad."

"Don't worry, baby. I'll talk to him. Let's just hurry up and get out there." Nick went up on his tiptoes and kissed Jeff lightly on the lips, causing the taller male to giggle.

"Okay…I love you, Nicky."

"Love you too, Babe."

Kurt cleared his throat. The whole scene would have been cute if he hadn't walked in on them fucking about two second ago. "Can I wash my hands now?"

Jeff blushed, nodding shyly before scurrying out of the bathroom. Nick's hands on the blonde one's back as he followed, mumbling something that sounded like 'friggin' cock-block' when he passed by Kurt.

_I never want to see two people having sex ever again._

Kurt walked over to the sink, scrunching up his nose at the sweaty handprints still fading on the porcelain sides. He gingerly turned on the faucet and washed his hands, using extra soap from the dispenser he found knocked on the ground. Kurt shook his head once he was done, almost laughing at absurdity of it all.

_I wonder what Blaine would think of all this?_

Kurt smiled while thinking of Blaine, couldn't wait for his next date with him. Despite Puck's obnoxiousness and his last experience, he was thinking of taking Blaine to 'The Pinn Up' on one of their DJ nights. He felt like dancing would be a good thing to try with him, plus maybe he could reenact his dream he had about Blaine a few nights ago. Not that he would ever tell Blaine about what he dreamt.

_I wonder if I would be able to request that song._

_I wonder if he can even dance._

Kurt heard loud sounds that could only be acquainted to microphones being moved. Then he heard drumsticks being banged against each other, counting down before the song was to begin he assumed. Suddenly, notes were being played on a guitar, clear enough that even Kurt could hear the music notes through the wall.

**It's late at night**

**the world's asleep**

**And I'm trying not to think**

_Hey, they don't sound half bad._

**I take some pills cause my mind bleeds**

**I'm thinking 'what is wrong with me?'**

_Huh…the singer. He sounds pretty good actually._

**Because the only thing I know about honesty**

**Is every lie I told that you believed**

Kurt smiled to himself as he listened through the wall, finding the voice of the singer oddly captivating even though the genre of the music wasn't really his thing.

**I'm afraid**

**To be alone**

**I'm afraid**

**That one day you'll find out**

Then when the singer's voice changed an octave, Kurt felt his brow furrow.

**And you'll be amazed**

**At the secrets I keep**

**You'll be amazed**

**At my mouth full of lies**

_Why does he sound so…so FAMILIAR?_

**But I'm too afraid**

**To come clean**

**Cause my life's the flame**

**In a house of cards**

Kurt felt his feet moving towards the bathroom door, his mind racing and telling him that it couldn't be who he thought it is.

**Now I can't look you in your eyes**

**Because the guilt is killing me**

_It can't be him._

_It can't be._

**I try to disconnect my heart again**

**Just so I can breathe**

_Blaine's out of town, helping a friend move some music equipment._

**I wanna be myself again**

**But I just can't cause I'm a—**

_He wouldn't…LIE to me._

_Blaine's honest, and kind, and trustworthy._

—**fraid**

**To be alone**

**I'm afraid**

**That one day you'll find out**

_Isn't he?_

**And you'll be amazed**

**At the secrets I keep**

Kurt slowly twisted the doorknob, not ready to believe that he made the mistake of trusting someone who didn't deserve it, again.

**You'll be amazed**

**At my mouth full of lies**

When the door finally opened, Kurt coughed and waved his hand in front of his face. Trying to disperse some of the smog from the smoke machine the band was obviously using, the strobe light flickering somewhere in the room not making his ability to see the singer clearer any better.

**But I'm too afraid**

**To come clean**

Kurt spotted Puck sitting in chair, watching the band perform a few feet away. He slowly walked over to him, not wanting to trip on any electrical wires and such.

**Cause my life's the flame**

**In a house of cards**

When Kurt finally made it to Puck, he realized that the Mohawk wearing male was looking at the spectacle with a look of confusion and fascination. He turned towards the performance, catching sight of the singer as the smoke cleared from his face.

**It's such a shame what I've become**

**After years of breaking down**

_Oh my…BLAINE?_

**My whole life has come undone**

**Cause I'm trying to fake it all**

Kurt had his mouth and his eyes wide open. Not fooled at all by the five o'clock shadow, the eyeliner, the piercings glinting in the strobe light, or the straightened hair.

**And I know that you love someone**

**But that someone isn't me**

This was Blaine. The guy who bought him hot chocolate, held hands with him on the boardwalk, and the one he KISSED. It was same guy who was now growling lyrics into his microphone and had this hollow, far-away look in his jade-amber eyes.

**Or is this me?**

After Blaine whispered out the last line into the microphone, he focused his eyes back on his audience, and his world stopped for a moment.

**(Hey-ey-ey-ey)**

There, standing right next to Puck, and looking utterly appalled, was Kurt.

**(Nooooooooo…)**

The instrumental continued to play while Kurt and Blaine stared at each other. Blaine looked on in embarrassment and horror, while Kurt felt one of his hands cover his mouth in shock. He didn't know what to make of any of this, or of Blaine.

As Nick and Jeff did ominous whispers into the microphone, Jeff glanced back at Trent to raise an eyebrow in question, to which Trent shrugged in equal confusion. Puck was staring between them too, curious as to what was occurring.

As the instrumental came to an end, Blaine had to snap himself out of it. The song was almost over, and then he needed to talk to Kurt. He knew he messed up, but he just needed to get Kurt to understand. That's all.

**And you'll be amazed**

**At the secrets I keep**

_Secrets._

**You'll be amazed**

**At my mouth full of lies**

_Lies._

**But I'm too afraid**

**To come clean**

_Dammit, I should have known better after what happened last time._

**Cause my life's the flame**

**In a house of cards**

_I should know not to believe everything someone with a pretty face says._

**(You'll be amazed)**

Blaine could feel his eyes tear up; the betrayed look in Kurt's watery baby blues was making him feel less than an inch big.

**(You'll be amazed)**

When the song came to an end, no one moved. Wes and David just staring at Puck, trying to gauge his reaction. Puck, on the other hand, was staring at Kurt, and did not at all like the hurt look on his friend's face. The thing that did set everyone back into motion was one broken word, choked-out into the microphone.

"Kurt."

* * *

A/N: Ah! Love this song! It's Madina Lake's 'House of Cards.' Give it a listen and I bet it will give the chapter a better feel to it. Leave me a review while I'm gone? :)


	14. Regret Me

Author's Note: Um...thank you '**msgoodbar2257**' for leaving a slew of reviews and getting me back into gear. I have never nor will I ever forget this story. I just...got distracted. Summer has been more eventful than I've planned. I'll try to worm in some more productivity when I can! Everyone who reviews is amazing and thank you to all who have been waiting patiently! *cyber huggles for all!*

So extra long chappie for everyone after being gone for so long! :D But it's full of angsty feels so...yeah.

Next chapter I have some fun times planned. Yay!

Enjoy!

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.J.

* * *

(Chapter 14)

**So scared of breaking it**

**That you won't let it bend**

**And I wrote two hundred letters**

**I will never send**

Blaine strummed his guitar lazily, looking up at the sky and again wishing he were back in Westerville just so he could catch a glimpse of the stars he knew he couldn't see here.

**Sometimes these cuts are so much deeper than they seem**

**You'd rather cover up**

**I'd rather let them bleed**

The song was slow, a soft melody Blaine had adapted from the original.

**So let me be**

**And I'll set you free**

He stopped strumming for a bit, putting a bottle of vodka to his lips and taking a mouthful of the burning liquid. Then he sat back in his plastic lounge chair, picking right back up where he left off.

**I am in misery**

**There ain't nobody who can comfort me**

**Oh yeah**

It's been days. Days since Kurt ran out of the loft, refusing to even give Blaine a chance to explain.

**Why won't you answer me?**

**The silence is slowly killing me**

**Oh yeah**

Text massages, phone calls, nothing was answered.

**Girl, you really got me bad**

**You really got me bad**

**I'm gonna get you back**

**I'm gonna get you back**

Blaine would have gone over to Kurt's apartment, but something told him that might end up making things worse between them.

**You say your faith is shaken**

**And you may be mistaken**

**To keep me wide awake and waiting for the sun**

Again he stops, lifting the bottle to his lips and not even caring when some of it trickles down over his still unshaven face. He downed the last drops of the bottle, letting it slip from his hands to the rooftop floor before he fell back into the chair. Listening as it clinked and clanked while it rolled away.

**I'm desperate and confused**

**So far away from you**

**I'm getting there; I don't care where I have to run**

It was cold out, and yet, Blaine was bare-chested and barefoot. Blaine was so upset with himself that he hadn't even bothered to gel the last couple of days. He didn't think he deserved to look dapper when all he felt was deceitful and untrustworthy.

**Why do you do what you do to me, yeah?**

**Why won't you answer me, answer me, yeah?**

**Why do you do what you do to me, yeah?**

**Why won't you answer me, answer me, yeah?**

He couldn't blame Kurt. He had every right to be upset with Blaine. If Kurt never talked to him again, he wouldn't be surprised. But would Blaine be miserable?

Duh.

**This love has taken its toll on me**

**She said 'Goodbye' too many times before**

Hah! Love? What did Blaine even know about love?

An 'open relationship' and sex on command, that was Sebastian's twisted view of love. That's not what Blaine wanted.

One night stands, with people who saw nothing more than a body to get off on. That's not what Blaine wanted.

**Cause' I am in misery**

**There ain't nobody who can comfort me**

**Oh yeah**

A chance to be vulnerable with someone, to hold someone close enough to feel their heart beat against your own, to hold one's hand and feel that spark of electricity run through your veins, and…so much more. This is what Blaine wants.

**Why won't you answer me, answer me?**

**The silence is slowly killing me**

It can't be what he's feeling already, can it?

It's too soon.

It's too much.

It's…a dream, and a nightmare.

And it's seriously not something he should be contemplating when he's inebriated.

**You really got me bad**

**You really got me bad**

Blaine honestly doesn't know if what he feels is love.

**This love has…**

He just knows it's something worth holding on to.

…**given me misery**

"Aww baby, serenading me after our little sex-capade?"

Blaine groaned, covering his face with his hands at hearing that pompous voice. "Get bent."

Sebastian smirked, "Oh killer, I already was." He was in nothing but boxer shorts and one of Blaine's white button-ups. He sauntered over to the musician and sat down in the space where Blaine's legs had been outstretched on.

_**Prick.**_

Blaine rolled his eyes. "I was drunk, and lonely. It…it was a mistake." He may have despised Sebastian, but something in him still felt bad for using anyone.

"You're definitely still drunk if you're calling what we did a mistake," A sleazy smile spread across his face. "Because you weren't complaining about a thing an hour ago."

"Why are you still here?" Blaine asked, exasperated.

Sebastian turned his head away, refusing to make eye contact. "I thought I'd stay over for once."

Blaine sat up proper then, suspicion clear on his face. "You NEVER stay over after we have sex."

He turned back to glare at the curly-haired male. "Can't you just accept that I want to be with you?"

Blaine narrowed his eyes, "No, I can't. You hate cuddling, you hate emotions, and you hate commitment."

"Look short stack, maybe I wasn't ready for a real relationship in high school. I mean its high school, who the hell wants to be tied down to one guy?"

"I did." Resentment was clear in the curly-haired man's voice.

"That's because you were a clingy, sickeningly romantic sap. After one day with you, I fucking developed claustrophobia."

Blaine scoffed, "It's called being a loving boyfriend you emotionally stunted dick."

_**Wow, I must not be as intoxicated as I thought.**_

Sebastian waved him off, like what he said was irrelevant. What he said was always irrelevant. "Whatever. My point is, it was a total turn off back then, but now…I'm willing to give you another chance."

Blaine chocked back a laugh, "Are you fucking joking?"

The other male narrowed his eyes, "Does it look like I'm joking?"

He started laughing, Blaine started full on laughing. "Oh my God, that's great. Yeah, YOU give ME another chance. Uhuh. Sure, in your dreams. Get off my roof. You know your way out; door's that way. Go on."

Sebastian stood up abruptly and his nostrils flared. "Isn't this what you wanted, Blaine? Have someone you can fawn over and be a hopeless romantic to? I'm giving you the golden opportunity to have that with me, Sebastian Stanton Smythe. I'm smart. I'm hot as hell. And I'll be more than financially secure once I take over my dad's law firm."

Blaine wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and looked up at Sebastian with an entertained grin on his face. "Are you so desperate to feel something from someone else that you'll hold on to a love that died years ago? If it ever was that."

"Shut up. I made you fall head over heals in love with me. I know I did."

He looked away and snorted, "Don't you even try to pawn off what happened between us in high school as love. I was your fucking doormat, your toy, your damn convenience. A stupid teenager who had sex for the first time and thought…and thought that it meant more to you than it actually did." Blaine looked back at him with tired eyes. "Maybe I should apologize too. Apologize for ever saying 'I love you' when I had no idea what it truly meant."

The taller male sneered, "And what? Now you do?"

The dreamy smile that crept across Blaine's face caused Sebastian to sneer harder. "Maybe…"

"With who? The little twink who gave you this shitty ragdoll?" Sebastian whipped out the little stuffed animal from somewhere Blaine hadn't even known the other had been hiding it. "You don't even know him!"

Blaine felt something hot burn in his gut, "Yeah? Well, I've known you for years, and yet, I already like him better than I have ever liked you!"

"God, look at you. Nick was right, you've turned into such a loser!" Sebastian mocked. "Don't throw us away for someone you JUST met, its pathetic."

_**Damn you, Nick.**_

Blaine balled his hands into fists, as he looked up at Sebastian. "You don't have a say in what I do anymore! And Kurt is really none of your business." He made a grab for Margaret Thatcher Dog, but Sebastian reeled back at the attempt. "Ugh, why do you care anyways?! Tell me; tell me before I ask you to get the fuck out AGAIN. Because I refuse to believe you've actually had a change of heart. You'd actually need to have a heart before it could change in any manner."

Sebastian's eyebrow twitched, "Maybe I've finally realized that I love you, that I've always loved you."

"All you ever did was put me down, and mess with my head. I don't think you ever cared about me at all." He shook his head at how stupid he was. "I deserve better…better than you, at least."

He pointed a warning finger at Blaine. "Listen here, I refuse to be one upped by some little priss!"

"Well, there it is. Threatened, you feel threatened by him."

He scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous."

"No, you are. But you shouldn't be…because we never had a chance."

"He doesn't know you!" Sebastian gripped the stuffed puppy tighter, Blaine afraid the poor thing's stitching was about to pop. "I am the one who knows you better than anyone else, Blaine. Fuck him if you want, but I know you'll always come crawling back to me." Blaine winced at the harsh words directed around Kurt, but Sebastian kept at him. "I mean, look at where we are now. You so called lovebirds have a fight already? Is that why you were so eager to rip off my clothes?" He looked down at the stuffed animal he was currently wringing in his hands. "You may think you love him, but we both know it's just another failed attempt at you trying to get over me." He looked up then, sending a superior smirk Blaine's way. Within three seconds, Sebastian turned around, and threw the little puppy down into the alleyway.

Blaine's eyes went wide.

_**NO!**_

Before Blaine could scramble out of his chair, Sebastian went over and jumped to straddle the other's thighs, trapping him in his seat. He pushed Blaine's torso back to prevent him from getting up, he wasn't done talking at him yet. "Blaine, you haven't had a decent relationship since ours. It's because you don't want to. No one could possibly understand you like I do. No one could possibly want you like I want you. And deep down, that's exactly how you like it."

Blaine hadn't even bothered to look at Sebastian, his eyes trained on the spot where Margaret Thatcher Dog had been chucked over. A minute or so passed of Blaine saying nothing, and Sebastian was beginning to think his little rant had gotten through to him. But then Blaine looked up at him, normally warm honey eyes looking cold and muddy. "You think you know everything, don't you? Well, guess what. You don't know a thing about me. You don't mean a thing to me." An emotionless smirk spread across his face. "You…are nothing more…than a high class BITCH."

Sebastian's whole face was surpassing a deep shade of red and it looked as if he was about to turn a mean purple color with how hard he was scowling at the shorter male. God, he almost wished for Sebastian to have an aneurism at this point, but of course he'd never wish that on anyone…well…no, no, of course not. The empty smile never faltered on Blaine's face as he started to hum a tune Sebastian didn't recognize.

**The bitch came back, the very next day**

**Oh, the bitch came back**

**I thought she was a goner**

**But the bitch came back**

**She couldn't stay away**

Sebastian scoffed, "You say it like it's a bad thing."

**Don't you know the bitch came back?**

Blaine pushed back against Sebastian's chest this time. Effectively getting said male to scramble off Blaine's thighs. Causing Sebastian to, very unceremoniously, land in a heap on the floor. Sebastian glared up at Blaine. The musician getting out of his chair and flinging his guitar around so it was now strapped to his back, no longer hanging down in front of him. Watching as the jerk got to his feet.

**I like her so much better when she's down on her knees**

Sebastian scrunched up his nose is disgust. Guess it really was a bad thing.

**Cause when she's in my face that's when I'm starting to see**

**That all my friends were right for thinking that we'd be wrong**

**Well she's so fuckin' stupid bet she's singing along**

Sebastian huffed, "I don't have to stand here and listen to this." He turned around and started descending the ladder from the roof.

Blaine wasn't letting up; he followed Sebastian down the fire escape stairs. "Oh, I think you do. It's about time you finally listen to what I have to say!"

**The bitch came back the very next day**

**Oh, the bitch came back**

**I thought she was a goner**

**But the bitch came back**

**She couldn't stay away**

Sebastian looked back at where Blaine was following him. "Singing freak!"

**Don't you know the bitch came back?**

He landed on the platform that was outside Blaine's apartment. The taller male making his way through the open window, but then he was yanked back by the collar of the shirt that wasn't his. Sebastian felt his back being shoved up against the brick building. Blaine had Sebastian's wrists in his own, pinning them against the wall. The caged in boy had a shocked look on his face, how dare he? Since when did Blaine have the gall to go against Sebastian like that?

Blaine chuckled, pressing his body right into Sebastian's. "Listen carefully, because I will not repeat myself again."

**The trouble with girls is it's never enough**

**They love to complain and they never shut up**

**They like to tell you the way it ought to be**

**Go on and tell the world, but just don't tell me**

"You have some nerv—"

"Shut. Up." Blaine gritted out.

**It ain't a joke when I say I wanna throw you out**

**I really mean it**

**I really mean it**

**Well look who's laughing now!**

***SMACK***

Sebastian finally shoved Blaine off of him, Blaine catching himself on the railing behind him and holding a hand to his enflamed cheek. He smacked him; Sebastian Smythe had just smacked Blaine across the cheek.

**That bitch.**

"I can't wait till the day he drops you on your ass." Sebastian glared at Blaine as he went back into the apartment, gathering up his clothes and shouting at Blaine. "And by the time you come to your senses, you won't even exist to me!"

"You're an idiot, and you're pathetic!"

"I am so glad we're done!"

"I was getting tired of you and your whiny attitude anyways!"

"But you hear me…you're going to regret me, Anderson! I can promise you that!"

Curse words, more repetition of the same thing, and then finally, Blaine's apartment door slammed shut. Blaine slumped against the railing, looking up at the sky and shaking his head at the spectacle that was Sebastian Smythe. Blaine had no idea how he ever lasted so long with him. And he still didn't know if Sebastian had taken what Blaine had said seriously, but for now, Blaine could only hope that he did. Because one thing was for sure…

_**I already regret you, Sebastian.**_

* * *

A few beers later (along with an unexpected passing out), and Blaine's body was face down on the lounge chair atop the roof. Same dress as he had been in when he kicked out Sebastian, snuffled snores emitting from his parted lips, as well a bit of drool. He groaned when a ticklish sensation flitted across his bare back, making shivers go up his spine.

_**Nygh.**_

Suddenly, something soft and warm was being draped across his back. His blanket, obviously, then the corners of the material was being tucked under Blaine's flanks. Blaine's sweaty curls were being brushed back from his forehead, a sweet gesture that Blaine didn't understand. "I guess I'll come back later." A light voice whispered.

Blaine snorted loudly, the noise making him jerk abruptly and turn over dazedly.

_**Huh?**_

The most likely hung over boy flipped onto his back, his eyes cracking open the slightest bit. Then recoiling at the bright sun burning his eyes and searing his brain.

_**Mother. Of. God.**_

Blaine sat up then, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Fuck…I am never drinking again."

There it was, that giggle. The one he hadn't heard in days.

_**It…it can't be.**_

"Kurt?" Blaine squinted up, shielding his eyes from the sun with his left hand to get a better look at the individual currently standing over him.

"Y-Yeah…it's me."

A beat of silence, nothing but car honks and lulled shouts drifting up from the streets below to fill in the silent air.

"This was stupid." Kurt backtracked. "I should…I should go."

"No!" Blaine shot out a hand and grabbed onto Kurt's, the fast action making dizzying spots appear before his eyes. He groaned, flopping back in his chair and covering his mouth before the contents of his stomach emptied out onto the roof.

"Rough night?" Kurt guessed.

Blaine nodded sheepishly, "Yeah…sorry. Just…just don't go. Please."

Kurt bit his lip hesitantly, shifting from foot to foot in his dance shoes. "Uh…okay." He looked at the spot on the plastic chair where Blaine's legs were stretched out and tangled in the blanket. "C-Can I sit?" He gestured towards it.

"Oh! Yeah. No, sorry. Yeah, of course." Blaine mumbled. Bringing his legs towards him so he could sit cross-legged and moved the blanket he'd brought up out of the way. He cringed when a couple of beer bottles clanked to floor and rolled away. "Sorry. Sorry, it's a mess. I'm a mess. I must look awful too. God, this isn't how I wanted you to see me." He babbled.

Kurt flicked off a bottle cap with his fingers before sitting down as well, taking after Blaine and sitting cross-legged as he faced him. As some of the sleepiness began to ware off, Blaine was able to focus more clearly on Kurt himself. Well, as clearly as one could manage when they were experiencing the hang over from hell. However, the splitting headache, the bleary eyes, the ringing in his ears, the sweat sticky skin, and the fact that booze was probably seeping out from his pores didn't bother Blaine. The only thing he was channeling all his focus on, was Kurt. The other male was currently fiddling with the end of a shoelace, clad in an oversized worn-out red Titan hoodie, and simple jeans (not skin tight like his pants normally were, but still fit to his body).

"Guess I don't have to ask what you've been up to." Kurt said, gesturing to the mess around Blaine's solo chair.

Blaine frowned and turned away, cheeks coloring with chagrin.

"N-Not that I'm judging or anything. It was just…the bottles…and the…I—"

"What are you doing here?" Blaine blurted out.

Kurt pursed his lips together, pulling at his hoodie's sleeves nervously so they covered the palms of his hands. "Right to the point, I see."

"Kurt…"

He sighed, "I…don't know really. It goes against…everyone's advice."

Blaine furrowed his brows. "What does?"

"Seeing you." Kurt wiped his sleeve across his nose before continuing; "Um…I had a long talk…with Rachel." He laughed briefly. "She called me after that traitor, Puck, called her. Then once she was done chewing me out for the fact that Puck knew about you before she did, Rachel told me you were…um…"

"What?"

"A two-faced troll who needed to be thrown in the Hudson River."

_**Well, don't sugar coat it.**_

"But you know, in a mean way." Kurt smiled slightly, looking down at his fidgeting hands. "Apparently the guys would be happy to do so, but I told them to stuff it. My brother needs to enjoy his honeymoon, and Puck needs to mind his own damn business. They can be so nosy sometimes. I always have to remind myself that they MEAN well." Kurt giggled, "Even if they can be idiots."

"Then…why did you come see me?" Kurt blushed, his hands finding their way into his hoodie's front pocket. He carefully pulled an item from the hoodie, one that made Blaine light up. "Thatcher Dog!" The pale young man bit his lip to keep from smiling any wider, pushing the stuffed animal over to an excited Blaine and feeling elated when the shirtless male hugged the big-eyed puppy to his chest tightly. "I thought I lost this little guy forever."

"I found him on my stairwell as I went out on my fire escape this morning. He was just lying there, all pathetic with his ridiculously big eyes, all lost and stuff." Kurt threaded his fingers together. "It sounds stupid, but it was like a sign. A sign that told me I needed to see you."

"I don't think it sounds stupid at all."

"So I…rushed over here. You didn't answer when I buzzed your apartment. I almost went back to Rachel's. I thought maybe you weren't home."

_**But I was…**_

"But…I thought back to when I saw you up on the edge of the roof, so I took a chance…and here you are."

"Here I am."

Kurt looked Blaine in the eye, something squeezing inside Kurt as he took in the curly-haired man's disarray appearance. "I hate being mad you…"

Blaine's throat clenched, "I hate you being mad at me."

"Yeah…I know I ignored you, and I'm sorry, but I was hurt. I just needed some time to think over a few things, but…"

_**Pleasepleaseplease.**_

"But?"

"But…I think running out like that, without so much as a second look to you, might have been an overreaction on my part. And I really want to know your side of the story. Before, ya know, anything else happens."

Blaine nodded frantically, then winced as the movement made him dizzy. "Wh-Whatever you want. And I…I really am sorry I didn't tell you the truth."

Kurt bit his lip, "Why? You already told me you were a musician. Why couldn't you just tell me about the band?"

"Because I hate it!" Blaine shouted, immediately recoiling at the sound of his own voice ringing in his sensitive ears. "Ugh…I hate my job. I'm a fucking sell-out. Every time I go up there and try to be this persona they want, I just feel so…so…"

"Miserable?"

_**Yeah…**_

_**Wait…h-how…?**_

"I could see it. Once I was done wallowing in my own self-pity…"

_**Shit.**_

"…I remember the look on your face during the performance, and the song itself. They made you do all that stuff, didn't they?"

Blaine swallowed thickly; trying to keep down whatever uneasiness was churning in his gut. "Yes, and I didn't want you to ever see me like that. It's freaking humiliating." He stared at Kurt then, watching as the blue-eyed boy stared down at his hands that just seemed to be oh so fascinating throughout their conversation. "I'm ashamed at how much of a pushover I've become. It was their idea for that stupid wannabe rock band, and I…I just didn't know how to say no. They're my friends, have been for years. And the thought of you being subjected to that…that SHAM, that damn project you saw on that stage…freaking kills me on the inside."

"Why do you care about what I think so much?" He asked in a small voice.

"Because you get it. I don't know how you get it, but you just do." Blaine replied without hesitation. "You're special, Kurt."

Kurt snorted.

"You are. I may have mislead you about my job, but the boardwalk…that was real for me." He grabbed one of Kurt's hands, stopping him from picking at his cuticles. "I'll tell you everything. About how I used to take classes at NYU, but secretly always wanted to get into NYADA. How I used to be with a manipulative dick that never had anything positive to say about me and how stupid I was for giving him a second chance after he cheated on me."

"Blaine…"

"How I feel like a damn puppet up on stage instead of a performer, how my father got away with derogatory comments about my sexuality and how my mother never said anything to defend me because she secretly agreed with him."

"You don't have to—"

"The first time I saw you wasn't at Puck's club or that night we sang together, it was a few days before that." Kurt's eyebrows rose at hat statement. "I saw you looking out at the city…you looked so breathtaking. I don't know why, but I just had this feeling…this feeling that if I didn't try to make an effort to at least meet you, that I would be making a HUGE mistake." His eyes started to water, "And then I did meet you, and I talked to you, and I KISSED you. Then I go and…screw everything up." He shook his head.

"No, you didn't." Kurt gripped Blaine's hand and finally looked up into Anderson's eyes, "I had a feeling too Blaine…about you." The hazel-eyed boy felt himself hope. "I don't…click…with people very often. Not like I did with you. Puck, Rachel, even Finn; it took time before I was even a third as comfortable with them as I've become with you. And…I'm REALLY taking a chance on you here."

_**I feel the same way about you.**_

_**It's just so easy.**_

_**This.**_

_**Us.**_

_**I can't screw this up again…I can't.**_

"Also…you're not the only one who hides things. Things they're…I'M ashamed of." Kurt wanted to avert his eyes again, but Blaine caught his chin and brought their eyes back to each other.

"You never have to be ashamed of anything with me."

Kurt felt his lips quirk up at the corners. "And if I were to have said that to you a few days ago, would you have been more honest with me?"

_**No.**_

"Um…I don't know. Maybe?"

"See? I know what it's like to hide things, about yourself from the people around you. I've done it since high school." Kurt gave Blaine a warm look. "That's why you go by Devon on stage, isn't it? Blaine feels like a different person to you, so you try to become a different part of yourself. One you like better."

_**Stop.**_

_**Stop it.**_

Blaine's eyes began to tear up again; it was so fucking hard to control his emotions when he was this hung over. "I go out on stage under the name Devon when I'm not around my friends. When I have to…be what the guys want, I go out as Blaine." The musician sniffed, "No one has ever figured out that they're the same performer. You're the only one who has ever noticed that we're the same person. People see what they want or don't want to see, ya know?" Blaine wiped at his eyes furiously. "That's why you're special. That's why I care so freaking much about what you think of me. You actually SEE me, all of me, not just the parts I play."

Kurt stared at Blaine.

Stared at him for such a long time that Blaine was starting to feel a little panicked. But then Kurt spoke, and that's when Blaine definitely started to panic. "I changed my mind. I can't do this." Kurt scrambled off the lounged chair and started to briskly walk towards the fire escape.

No, Blaine had just gotten Kurt to talk to him again. He couldn't go back to nothing, to silence. "Wait. No, Kurt. Wait!" Blaine ignored how the pitch caused his brain to throb, fighting himself out of his blanket and damn near sprinting to Kurt. He caught the fleeing boy, catching the other's middle while the taller one had barely gripped onto the top of the ladder. "Please don't give up on me now. I know this is all crazy and confusing, but I can't help what I sound like. This is what I feel, Kurt. My life is hectic, and you shouldn't want to be apart of this whole charade…but I want to see where we can go."

Kurt remained motionless, his hands white-knuckling the railing. Blaine placed his hands over Kurt's rigid ones, easing them off and turning said boy around in his arms. He looked up at Kurt, watching as the glasz eyed boy regarded him with caution. The morning sun was shining off the side of his porcelain face, making him glow like an angelic beacon. Blaine couldn't help himself, if this was the last he was going to see of Kurt, he had to take a chance.

So he kissed him.

Blaine cupped his cheek and pressed his warm lips against Kurt's. The taller boy gripping Blaine's exposed shoulders in retaliation, then his bare biceps, his movements seeming as if he wasn't sure whether or not to push Blaine away or pull him closer. It was a quick kiss, soft pressure between two sets of lips. Kurt sucked in a sharp breath once Blaine pulled back, preparing himself to be smacked…again. He just stared at Blaine, eyes wide and caught off guard.

Blaine blinked rapidly, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I'm…I'm sorry."

"Can you do me a favor?" He breathed out, still a bit winded from Blaine's surprise kiss.

Blaine nodded without hesitation. "Y-Yeah, yeah."

"Don't prove my friends right, okay? I-I don't think I could handle that a second time."

_**Second time?**_

"Wouldn't dream of it." Blaine replied quickly. Kurt's lips quirked up slightly at the answer, his eyes actually crinkling at the sides with his expression. The sight of the two them basically embracing on the rooftop was special. Blaine wanted to stay like that, have the astounding boy in arms for longer than he deserved. However, something began to nag at him, a pin prickling feeling prodding at the back of his mind.

Kurt furrowed his brows, noticing Blaine suddenly looking everywhere but him. "What's wrong?"

Blaine furrowed his triangular eyebrows as well, "I need to tell you something."

Kurt's face got an amused look, internally giggling at how seriously Blaine was taking their renewed honesty thing. "You don't have to."

"But you don't understand. I got these notes on my door a few days ago, and at first I thought it was just some crazy fans of mine leaving creepily fangirly notes again."

He laughed, threw his head back and laughed in Blaine's arms. "Well, aren't you popular. Is Blaine Anderson telling me to watch out for his fangirls when we're out in public?"

"No, what? That's not…"

Kurt patted Blaine's curls, "There, there. I think I can take care of myself when it comes to a few screaming women."

"Kurt, please listen—"

But he didn't, Kurt pressed a finger to Blaine's lips in a shushing manner. "Hey, there's no need to tell me anything else today. We can talk tomorrow." He blushed, blushed for a reason Blaine didn't understand. "After all, I never did get to take you out on my planned date."

"I…" Blaine felt his mouth snap shut. "Huh?"

Kurt chuckled, pushing at Blaine's chest so he stumbled backwards a bit. "I'll buzz your apartment around ten." He gave Blaine a mischievous smirk. What happened to the hesitant Kurt that was there like a minute ago? "Wear something fun, 'cause we're going to have some." Kurt moods were beginning to give his hazy brain whiplash. He had begun descending the ladder when he added, "Oh, and please think about showering. Last night's little drinking binge is like seeping out of your pores, kay?"

Blaine blushed, crossing an arm over his chest and covering his face with the other hand. He listened to the sounds of Kurt climbing down the metal escape, in complete disbelief that the beautiful chestnut haired boy has not tossed him aside like he'd expected him to.

Blaine dropped his hands, his foot tapping on the dirty floor as he bit his lower lip. He wasn't stupid, prideful and stubborn maybe, but not stupid. This was getting out of hand. If he wanted to have anything with Kurt, he was going to need some help. Ignoring 'whoever' hadn't been working too much for him. The catastrophe at the maze had been proof of that. Kurt obviously had no idea what was going on, but maybe someone else did.

And he knew just who to ask.

* * *

A/N: First song is Darren's own mash-up of Marron 5's 'Misery' and 'This Love.' The second is Theory of a Deadman's 'Bitch Came Back.' I'll be back when I can! I promise I'm trying! In the mean time, review? ^-^


	15. Nice Try

Author's Note: Yes! Did not disappear on ya this time! Woo! Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your wonderful reviews!

And okay, there are a lot of songs in this chapter, but they're in a club so yeah, constant music playing.

***Warning***: For not so smart choices (But if everyone made good decisions, stories wouldn't be that interesting), and mentions of drugs.

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.J.

* * *

(Chapter 15)

**Now that I have captured your attention**

**I want to steal you for a rhythm intervention**

**Mr. TSA I'm ready for inspection**

**Sh-sh-show me how you make a first impression**

Kurt rolled his eyes as he and Blaine walked into 'The Pinn-Up.' He never thought he'd see the day when Selena Gomez songs were regulars at a nightclub, and yet, here it was. Even as he scrunched his nose up at the song, he'd never admit to secretly liking this particular track of hers. It a guilty pleasure, okay?!

**Oh, oh**

**Can we take it nice and slow, slow**

**Break it down and drop it low, low**

**Cause I just wanna party all night in the neon lights 'til you can let me go**

Blaine smiled at the scene he was witnessing, colorful flashing lights, gyrating bodies, over-the-top DJ, and he couldn't wait to get Kurt out on the dance floor. Well, ya know, after he took Puck aside and had a little word with him about the notes in his coat pocket.

"Hey, guys!" Jake shout-greeted at them, waving them over from behind the bar.

Kurt smiled easily as he lent over the countertop, "Hey Jake, what's up?"

He smiled, "Puck told me you guys were coming in. We got a reserved booth for you guys over there. Go ahead and put your coats up, ya got it for the whole night."

Kurt rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, "Come on, we don't need any free booth. There's no need for the VIP treatment. I'm sure someone else could pay for something that nice."

**I just wanna feel your body right next to mine**

**All night long**

**Baby, slow down the song**

**And when it's coming closer to the end hit rewind**

**All night long**

**Baby, slow down the song**

Jake snorted, "Free? That's a laugh. Puck put it on Blaine's tab. Pay at the end of the night lover-boy."

It was Blaine's turn to laugh, cutting off Kurt before he could protest. "Kurt, it's cool. I kind of had that coming."

"Actually, I was gonna tell Jake to send over a couple shots while he was at it. It's the least you could do to make it up to me after all." Kurt winked at Blaine cheekily.

"Guess I deserve that one." Blaine chuckled, putting his and Kurt's drink orders in to be sent to their booth. He put a tip in the tip jar as well, something that wasn't a questionable thong or a lipstick-stained napkin with a phone number scrawled across it. Kurt cocked his head at Blaine, leading the way to their VIP booth.

**Oh oh oh oh**

**Yeah, baby, slow down the song**

**Oh oh oh oh**

**Yeah, baby, slow down the song**

"Care to dance?" Blaine asked, shedding his coat and scarf before throwing them into their booth. Kurt was now able to see more than just his black shoes and stylishly gelled dark hair. He wore hot pink skinny jeans, a black short-sleeved button up, pink & black checkerboard suspenders, and a hot pink bowtie topped off his outfit.

_Who the hell can pull off HOT PINK and still make it look sexy?_

_Blaine fucking Anderson, that's who._

_Because damn…_

"To this song? You must be joking." Kurt smirked as he took in Blaine's appearance, feeling a bit bolder about his own clothing choice. He chucked out of his own warm coat and scarf, tossing them into their area. The look on Blaine's face was definitely worth the extra effort to get into the sinfully tight pants he wore. The ivory-skinned young man had his hair coiffed, a long-sleeved black shirt with the sleeves pushed up to just below his elbows, a white vest that hugged his trim figure, black painted-on jeans, and white knee-high lace-up boots.

**If you want me I'm accepting applications**

**So long as we k-keep this record on rotation**

**You know I'm good with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation**

**Breathe me in, breathe me out**

**So amazing**

Blaine swallowed thickly, the contrasts of black and white caused Kurt to stand out in the most alluring way. "You look amazing."

Kurt smiled easily, "Thank you, so do y—oh my God." His eyes were trained on the bar behind Blaine.

"What?"

"Blaine can you just—just stay here. I wont be too long, promise."

Blaine followed Kurt's figure as he bypassed other people in the club, tapping a blonde-haired man on the shoulder who had been leaning back against the bar. The blonde male's eyes had lit up in recognition of Kurt, smiling happily before they shared a hug too warm for Blaine's liking.

_**Who is—**_

"Ahh! I can't believe it! You're him, you're Devon from the Open Mic Nights. O M G, I am like, your number one fan. I put your performance on YouTube the other day. You. Are. Awesome!" A guy with a beanie and hipster glasses shouted at him.

**Oh, oh**

**Can we take it nice and slow, slow**

**Break it down and drop it low, low**

**Cause I just wanna party all night in the neon lights 'til you can let me go**

Blaine gave a hesitant smile, "O-Oh? Well, that's very nice of you."

"Your performance of 'Part of Me' was fab-u-lous! I cried. Seriously." When the boy noticed the wary look in the dark-haired man's eyes he blushed, "Sorry, when I get excited, I tend to start yelling."

Blaine chucked awkwardly, "No, it's fine. I'm glad you enjoyed the shows. Wh-What did you say your name was?"

"Eeep! You wanna know my name? Ok, it's—"

"Hey, are you bothering one of our VIPs?" Jake commented, narrowing his eyes at the guy as he balanced a couple of Tequila shots on a tray.

"N-N-No? Just wanted to-to…"

"All right, beat it squirt. Don't make me kick you out."

Blaine frowned, "Jake, it's fine, really."

The guy just frowned and sulked away, slinking into the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor.

**I just wanna feel your body right next to mine**

**All night long**

**Baby, slow down the song**

**And when it's coming closer to the end hit rewind**

**All night long**

**Baby, slow down the song**

Blaine sighed, "You didn't have to be so aggressive."

Jake rolled his eyes, placing the shots on their table. "To who? Specks over there? Pfft, he's a regular nosy-Rosy."

"All right, whatever. Can you just tell me where your brother is? Is he up in the loft? I need to talk to him."

_**Might as well do it now while Kurt's…visiting.**_

_**Ugh, who is that guy anyway?**_

Blaine walked towards the door he knew led up to the loft, getting dizzy for a second when Jake spun him around just as he got to the door. "Yo, my bro has a lot on his plate right now, what with Finn gone and everything. Tell me what's up."

"It's kind of important, Jake."

"Everything my brother does is important."

Blaine huffed, he can understand Jake wanting to take off some of the weight his brother's got to deal with, but this was about Kurt, not the club. "I don't know…"

Jake frowned, "You know you're already on Puck's shit list after that little stunt you pulled with Finn's bro. Kurt may be forgiving, but Puck isn't so much. I'm offering my help, dude. Take it."

_**He's right.**_

_**Fuck.**_

"Promise this will stay between us?"

**Oh oh oh oh**

**Yeah, baby, slow down the song**

**Oh oh oh oh**

**Yeah, baby, slow down the song**

Jake nodded, motioning for Blaine to follow him to the men's room. Blaine squinted in the suddenly illuminated room, amazed at how clear the music could still be heard from the other side of the door.

_**Damn, bass seems to vibrate off the walls in here.**_

Jake snapped his fingers at the two guys peeing at a couple of urinals. "You two. Out."

"I'm not done!"

"Like I give a rat's ass! Go in the alley out back."

When one of the guys zipped himself up and looked like he was about to pounce, Jake stepped forward and damn near growled out an 'I dare you.' Both men having been slightly smaller in muscle-mass just ducked their heads and skidded out of there. Blaine wasn't even sure if the other had tucked himself in or not. There was no questioning Jake was the bouncer for a reason.

The younger Puckerman peeked under all the stalls zip-line fast before stopping in front of Blaine once again. "We don't have much time before I should get back out there. Puck only went to grab some reserve Royal Crown from the back. So…what's up?"

**Breathe me in, breathe me out**

**The music's got me going**

**Breathe me in, breathe me out**

**No stop until the morning**

Blaine his lip hesitantly, taking a deep breath before he nodded. "I think someone's stalking Kurt."

Jake furrowed his brows. That's it. Nothing more.

"Hello! I said someone is stalking Kurt! Don't you think that deserves a little more reaction than some movement of your eyebrows?" Blaine shrieked, and then quieted down a bit. Who knew who could be listening now a days?

_**Wait…no, no, that's just paranoid.**_

Jake stared at Blaine, his brown eyes shifting back and forth as his mind went a hundred miles an hour. He looked like…like…like he was putting pieces together!

"Holy shit. Holy shit, you already know, don't you?! Jake!"

"I don't know what I know, okay!?" Jake shouted back, "But I think…I think Puck may realize something is going on."

It was Blaine's turn to furrow his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Jake crossed his arms over his chest, kicking at the tiled floor with his boot. "Someone might have slipped a little Liquid X into your boy Hummel's drink a few days ago."

**Breathe me in, breathe me out**

**You know I'm ready for it**

**For it, for it**

**Yeah**

"I don't know what that is." Blaine confessed; a bit worried by Jake's grave tone.

"You dolt, it means someone slipped a roofie into Kurt's drink." He hissed.

Blaine could feel himself paling, everything in him churning sickeningly. How could anyone do that to Kurt? Sweet, amazing, caring Kurt. "That's fucking sick."

"Well, I'm not 100% sure. Puck refuses to let me in on what's going on. I think he believes he's protecting me or keeping me from worrying too much, which is totally stupid. If he's worried about something, then so am I. So it's better to just keep me in the freaking loop, ya know?" Jake rambled, some of his frustration bleeding through.

"Does Puck know who's doing this?"

Jake scoffed, "If he did, do you think that person would even be alive right now? Finn is like family, man. In turn, Kurt is family too. Puck protects his family. Whoever's messing with Kurt would be at the bottom of a deep, dark hole if Puck knew who this ass was." He pointed at Blaine warningly. "That's why you gotta steer clear of Puck for a while. He's in full Puckinator mode. After the crap you pulled at that audition, messing up Kurt like that? Yeah, you're not his favorite little hobbit anymore. If you're not careful, he could think that YOU'RE the one slipping that crud to Kurt."

"But I'm not! Whoever's doing this is messing with me too! He or she or whatever, locked me in a damn funhouse, and has been sending me threatening notes with cutout letters on them. They don't want me anywhere near Kurt." Blaine explained, his chest heaving from the amount of adrenaline coursing through him now. It wasn't just his imagination, and he wasn't just being paranoid. Someone dangerous was seriously lurking around him and Kurt. "We have to tell Kurt. We have to tell everybody. We have to tell the POLICE!"

Jake put a steadying hand on Blaine's shoulder, "Hey, no, look at me. I'm all over this. Calm down."

"I can't calm down! I have a freak in a pale orange hoodie making me break my own reflection!"

"Are you listening to yourself right now? Do you think anyone is going to believe you without proof? Your story sounds crazy."

"But it's true!" Blaine pouted.

Jake's expression softened a bit, "I believe you. And I'm going to help you. But you have to trust me, okay? Calling the police was the first thing I did, duh."

Blaine's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yeah, my buddy Ryder is a detective. A detective, man!" When Blaine looked skeptical, he gestured for Blaine to follow him out of the restroom.

The DJ stopped the song just as they were exiting the restroom and switched to another song, the beat to the bass shifting accordingly.

**Yeah, huh**

**Yeah, baby baby**

**Yeah, baby baby**

**Hey, hey**

"See that guy over there? Trying to hit on those two NYADA freshmen and failing miserably?" Jake pointed out some guy with an old-school Bieber haircut, leaning against the opposite wall and chatting up some girls.

"Um…sure."

_**That's what a detective looks like?**_

"I know he looks young, but the guy's a genius! Dyslexic, but a genius. He must be like, the youngest detective ever or something!" Jake said proudly. "He's willing to stick around and scope out the joint. Now that we know for sure Kurt is this sicko's target, Ryder can keep an eye on him."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just tell Kurt, and get him out of town or back home? I mean I've tried ignoring this person, it doesn't work."

"And still have this fucker loose on the streets? Maybe looking for his next victim when Kurt's out of his reach?"

_**Well, when you put it like that…**_

"Ryder barely believed me, and I'm his best friend. He's basically humoring me at this point. And do you really think Kurt is going to believe you, or Puck for that matter? The dudes who were front and center for your big fibbing charade?" Jake explained; sighing at the defeated look Blaine gave him. "Just find some way to keep Kurt around so Ryder can catch this creep red-handed. He's our best bet at keeping Kurt safe. You know I'm right. As much as it sucks, all we really can do is wait and bide our time."

**Girl give it to me**

**Girl you know what it do, girl give it to me**

**I got somethin brand new, girl give it to me**

**I'll put it all on you, girl give it to me**

**Wooo! I got a gift for ya**

Blaine shook his head. He didn't like this plan, not one bit. But what choice did he really have? He hated the idea of 'omitting the truth' to Kurt yet again, but what if he told him the actual truth and he didn't believe him. He already had a bad track record with the blue-eyed boy. At least this way he could be around Kurt and watch out for him too. "Fine, but if this gets too freaking out of hand, we are telling EVERYBODY. Not just your little school buddy, got it?"

"You got it." He stuck out his hand and shook Blaine's reciprocating one firmly. "We'll get the shit-head. No one messes with my bro, his bar, or his friends, and gets away with it."

_**So that's what this is.**_

_**Little Bro is just as protective as Big Bro.**_

_**Nice to know.**_

"Just hope your detective buddy is as good as you're hyping him up to be."

"Oh he is, but he'd be even more inclined to believe us if you gave him those sketchy notes you talked about."

"No problem. They're in my coat…po…cket." Blaine trailed off, narrowing his eyes at his and Kurt's reserved table. The one where his coat was stashed, and the one currently occupied by Kurt and Mr. Blonde guy.

**I got this for ya, a little Thicke for ya**

**A big kiss for ya, I got a hit for ya**

**Big dick for ya, let me give it to ya**

**Baby baby, I got a call for ya**

"Who's Mr. Flirt?"

Blaine scowled, "Go back to helping your brother. I'll get ya the notes by the end of the night."

As Blaine walked—no, strutted—over to their booth, he vaguely heard Jake shout. "What are you gonna do?!"

_**Work on giving Kurt a reason to stay.**_

"Hey Kurt, who's your friend?"

**I got a whip for ya, black car for ya**

**Ball hard for ya, I know you wanna get fancy**

**I know you wanna start dancing**

Kurt snapped his head up and smiled at Blaine. "Blaine! There you are. I was wondering where you'd gotten to."

Blaine hummed in response, side-eying the nicely dressed male sitting across from Kurt. "Was just having a little chat with Jake while you were…preoccupied."

"Oh! Where are my manners? Blaine, this is my friend, Adam. We went to NYADA together. Adam, this is Blaine. He's a regular here at the 'Pinn Up,' apparently." Kurt introduced, watching the two men carefully.

Adam ticked his head up, a slow grin stretching across his handsome face. "Pleasure to meet you, Blaine. I must've caught one of your performances before. I say this because you do look slightly familiar. I'm sorry that I can't remember why." He drawled while stretching out his hand, a swoon-worthy British accent permeating Blaine's ears.

**Hey...girl**

**You know you're lookin so damn fly**

**You're lookin like you fell from the sky**

**You know you make a grown man cry**

Blaine took Adam's hand in greeting, "Maybe I just have one of those faces." He let go of Adam's hand. "Nice accent."

"Thanks, so is yours." Adam smirked.

Kurt chuckled, "We kind of had the shots while you were talking to Jake, sorry."

"Oh, are you to thank for those? Thanks very much."

Blaine laughed dryly, "No problem. So…what've you two been talking about?"

"Just catching up with Kurt here. I thought for sure this one would have been on the Broadway stage by now, if not on it, then at least playing in their orchestra." Adam teased.

**I wanna give it to you, tonight**

**And make everything you fantasize**

**come true, ooh baby**

**I'll make you so so so amazing**

**I'll give it to you**

Kurt's cheeks tinted pink, his eyes downcast shamefully. "That was years ago."

_**Kurt can play an instrument?**_

"You never mentioned that."

Adam gaped, "Kurt was the first non-enrolled student to ever have the honor of performing at NYADA's Winter Showcase. His performance got him accepted into NYADA."

Blaine's eyebrows rose. "Wow. What did you sing, Kurt?"

Before Kurt could say, Adam cut in. "Sing? No, you misunderstood. Kurt was an extraordinary pianist. When he played the piano, it was magic."

**Girl give it to me**

**Girl give it to me**

**Girl give it to me**

**Girl give it to me**

"Adam…" Kurt gave his British friend a pointed look.

"But then a love of Performing Arts emerged and the rest is history." Adam covered up.

Blaine narrowed his eyes. "Huh…well, guess there are more than four sides to Kurt Hummel. I learn more and more about you everyday."

Kurt picked at his cuticles once more, "I was very indecisive a few years ago. What can I say?" He forced a half-smile.

"Well, before Jake gets too comfortable behind the bar, should I order us some more drinks?" Blaine asked.

Adam waved him off, "No, no. I should be heading back home now. I was just passing the time here while I waited for my little brother to be let out of work. I like to walk him home."

Kurt seemed to brighten at the information, "Aww, how is Alex? I haven't talked to him in so long."

"Still a naïve little ball of sunshine."

"Please tell him I said hi. Maybe the four of us can hang out before I head back to Ohio?" Kurt asked hopefully.

Adam nodded, "I'll give him your regards." He slid out from the booth. "See you around, Kurt." He eyed Blaine. "Maybe I'll see you around too…Anderson."

He felt his brows furrow and his eyes shift to stare at Adam.

_**Kurt must have said my last name before I got here.**_

_**Yeah, that must be it.**_

"Yeah." Blaine managed to grit out, glaring suspiciously at Adam's exiting figure. "Maybe."

**Ooh! What's that girl?**

**What's that baby? I like that girl**

**I like that baby, on your back girl**

**On your back, yeah shake it like that girl**

**Baby baby, I got an eye for ya**

Blaine slid into his side of the booth, the side Adam had been occupying seconds before. Kurt's lax body language was either telling Blaine that he must've not heard Adam's weird farewell, or that the explanation Blaine's mind came up with was true. Okay, he really needed to get ahold of himself. This whole situation was starting to make him neurotic. Blaine shook his head, trying to bring his focus back to the man sitting across from him. "So…pianist?"

Kurt blushed, "Like I said…indecisive."

The hazel-eyed boy tilted his head. "You ever going to tell me the real reason you switched majors?"

Kurt peeked his glasz up, looking at Blaine from beneath his eyelashes. "Maybe, but it's not a story I want to share today."

"Why not?"

"Because," Kurt leant forward and started to smile seductively, obviously trying to distract Blaine. "It's not a fond memory of mine, and tonight isn't a night to dwell on the unpleasant past."

"So how about, why you really aren't on Broadway? It can't be because you don't have the talent, because I've heard you sing. You're seriously talented."

The DJ let the song fade out as he boosted the sound for an entirely different track, letting a brand new song fade in.

**Couldn't help it when we met,**

**I was playing hard to get.**

**But one look and that was it,**

**Now it doesn't matter.**

"Blaine, I brought you to a nightclub to have fun. And talking about my time at NYADA isn't exactly my idea of fun right now." Kurt pouted. "C'mon, I only wanna dance with you." He added cheekily, waggling his perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

Blaine couldn't really deny Kurt anything when he stuck out his bottom lip adorably like that. He'd ask Kurt more about his past later. Tonight, he was supposed to be the smooth and charming Blaine Anderson that could really make him fall head over heels. Even if this was partially about luring out the stalker enough for this Ryder guy to arrest him, Blaine genuinely wanted to sweep Kurt off his feet. Kurt was…definitely the one he wanted to make sparks fly with. "Sure, I'll meet you on the floor. I just gotta give a tip to Jake."

"I thought you already did?"

"Nah, that was Puck's. I got one for Jake too."

Kurt smiled as he slid out of his spot, and then leaned down to whisper in Blaine's ear. "Don't keep me waiting too long."

**Drinking wine on the cement,**

**Outside 7-11.**

**Fell in love on accident,**

**Now it doesn't matter.**

Blaine shivered at Kurt's hot breath, eyes riveted to the sway of Kurt's hips as he dissolved into the mess of twerking, sweaty bodies. Not wanting to miss a second more of Kurt, Blaine dove for his coat. He ripped through his pocket's, searching for the notes when—"Ow!"

_**What the?**_

He pulled his hand back, glaring at the small scratch on his middle finger as a bit of blood started to well up under the abused pad of flesh. Furrowing his eyebrows together, Blaine sucked on his hurt finger, using his other hand to gingerly shake the dangerous pocket. A piece of broken mirror slid onto the table. Angry letters were painted on the small sharp piece in what Blaine could only hope was red paint.

**NICE TRY**

Blaine whipped his head up, scanning the club.

**You got to me,**

**You saw through me,**

**You're in for it now.**

The hazel-eyed male roughly wrapped the offending object up in a napkin. Blaine stalked over towards the bar and shoved it into Jake's surprised hands. "I'm sick and tired of being part of this basterd's game. If this doesn't get your buddy to believe me, then I'll take it to someone who will."

Jake unfolded the napkin, eyebrows quirking up at the piece of mirror. "Doesn't this constitute as seven years bad luck?"

"For me, or the other guy?"

"Depends, who broke the mirror?"

Suddenly, images flashed across Blaine's mind. Specifically the images and sensations that dealt with Blaine's not-too-long-ago encounter with the revolving mirror. "Me…"

**You're all I wanna do.**

**I only wanna dance with you.**

**Whatever I got to do.**

**I want you to myself tonight,**

**All right.**

**I only wanna dance with you.**

"What?"

"I did it. I broke the mirror. The guy who locked me in a funhouse maze is here right now!"

"H-How do you know?"

_**Because it's a piece of mirror from the boardwalk, from the Mirror Maze, from my first date with Kurt.**_

Blaine scanned the club behind him, not knowing how to pick out a stalker. Would they be hovering over Blaine? Maybe over Kurt? He wouldn't really know. What fans he did have never ventured towards that state of obsession. "Just give that to Ryder, because I have HAD IT with this sneaky bullshit." When he spotted Kurt, dancing with his arms above his head and gyrating his hips in a tantalizing manner, Blaine felt an unexplainable wave of protectiveness wash over him once again. "Got a shot of courage for me?"

**Used to being on the road,**

**Crazy nights and playing shows.**

**Used to dancing all alone,**

**Now it doesn't matter.**

Jake poured a shot of Tequila, getting a little wary as Blaine downed it without a second thought. "Why do I get the feeling you're about to do something stupid?"

"JAKE! MOVE YOUR ASS! NEED MY BOUNCER OUT ON THE FLOOR!" Puck shouted as he slid a beer to a customer.

"I'M GOING!" Jake shouted back, and then he turned back to Blaine to ask, "Well?"

"Come on, when have I ever done anything stupid?" Blaine smirked.

'Oh dear Lord' was the only thought going through Jake's mind. He didn't know what the hot-pink hobbit had in mind. Jake just knew that he needed to convince Ryder of the severity, the legitimacy of the situation, and fast.

Now if he could just find his womanizing best friend.

**Since you got a hold of me,**

**I'm talking about you in my sleep.**

**What the hell did you do to me?**

**Oh, it doesn't matter.**

Blaine slinked up behind Kurt and pressed himself against the paler boy's back, nipping his lobe just to hear the taller male squeak in surprise. "Miss me?"

Kurt giggled at the unexpected touching, sliding his hands down Blaine's toned arms, guiding the other's tanned hands towards gripping his own swiveling hips. "Dancing's only fun with a partner."

"Is that why you were teasing me?" Blaine asked, moving his body in time with Kurt's.

"Like I haven't heard that one before."

"Hmm?"

"Oh, don't mind me. Just had a little moment of déjà vu is all." Kurt chuckled.

**I fell for you, yeah**

**Boy you're so screwed, so**

**You're in for it now.**

Kurt spun around in Blaine's hold, winding his arms around Blaine's neck. "Nice of you to join me."

Blaine gulped, every train of thought halting except for the one that concentrated specifically on Kurt. The coiffed young man looked absolutely flawless. The different colored lights that swirled around the club played across his alabaster skin stunningly, his almost bright-blue azure eyes seemed to glow in the basically nonexistent lighting of the club, and his cheeks were flushed beautifully from the couple shots of alcohol he had not too long ago. He really was screwed. "Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?"

If it were possible, Kurt's cheeks would have turned a deeper shade of red. "Maybe once, but it's always nice to hear again."

Blaine moved Kurt's and his hips to the beat of the song, slotting their hips together as their bodies danced to the music. "Then I hope you don't mind me saying that you, Kurt Hummel, are the hottest man I have ever laid my eyes on."

"I don't mind at all. As long as you don't mind me saying that you are literally a wet-dream incarnated." Kurt confessed, the shots having affected his mind's ability to filter.

**You're all I wanna do.**

**I only wanna dance with you.**

**Whatever I got to do.**

**I want you to myself tonight,**

**All right.**

**I only wanna dance with you.**

Blaine smirked at the retort, "Does the compliment mean I'm forgiven?"

It was Kurt's turn to smirk, "Let's just say, if you're as smooth a dancer as you are a flirt, I'd be more than happy to…" Kurt unexpectedly cupped Blaine's dick through his pink jeans, purring seductively into Blaine's ear as the shorter male gasped in surprise and arousal. "…recreate my dream for ya."

_**Oh fuck me sideways.**_

_**And front ways.**_

_**Against a wall sounds good too.**_

Blaine keened into the warm hand caressing him, just barely holding back a whine when the hand was removed too soon. It didn't matter how much charm Blaine had, just one look into those glasz eyes and Kurt had Blaine wrapped around his little finger.

The funny part was…Blaine didn't really mind.

Once again, the DJ decided to switch tracks in the middle of a song. A few of the club-goes looked like they were about to cuss out the DJ for randomly switching up the songs. However, when the music for the next song became more prominent, they decided to throw themselves back into the music. It was so hard to stay mad when awesome music like this could be heard.

**Tomorrow's way too far away**

**And we can't get back yesterday**

**But we young right now**

**We got right now**

**So get up right now**

**'Cause all we got is right now**

Kurt pushed Blaine away from him, not wanting to overheat the poor guy before they could get in some decent dance time. It was his night to have fun, remember? "Ready for some foreplay?"

Blaine blinked away the sex-fueled haziness in his eyes, focusing on the words Kurt just uttered. When they finally registered, Blaine laughed. "I think you just read my mind."

**Baby tonight I need you**

**And I feel it when I see you**

**Wherever you wanna go**

**Whenever baby I'm yours**

Kurt spun himself back to Blaine, colliding his back with Blaine's front once more. He bent his knees and started slowly rocking his hips from side to side, starting off at an easy pace for Blaine to fall into. His torso began to undulate too, rubbing against Blaine's chest in invitation.

Blaine smoothed his hands down Kurt's flanks, rocking his hips in sync with Kurt's, as if they've done this little dance before. He placed one hand just under where Kurt's bellybutton was clothed, in hopes of keeping their bodies close.

**Tomorrow's way too far away**

**And we can't get back yesterday**

**But we young right now**

**We got right now**

**So get up right now**

**'Cause all we got is right now**

Kurt reached his hands back to caress Blaine's neck, closing his eyes as he bent his knees further so his back dragged down Blaine's torso teasingly. Blaine held back a groan as Kurt's hands smoothed down his chest too, brushing across and past his nipples, skating over his abdomen, before caressing down his thighs. A girl caught Kurt's eye as she stared at the pair incredulously, Kurt only sending her a wink as he worked his body back into a standing position.

As their hips started moving in a more circular motion, Blaine leant his head down to graze his teeth against Kurt's pulse point. Mouthing at the stretch of pale skin when Kurt's head fell back into the crook of Blaine's shoulder.

**So close I can taste you**

**Ain't scared I can take you**

**Can't fight the feeling**

**Can you feel me?**

**You got me, feel it**

Blaine grabbed one of Kurt's hands so he could twirl the man around to face him. Each working a leg between one another, the pair eased into a slow grind. Their hips, torsos, and shoulders rolled on their own accords. Their hips slotted once again, while their upper bodies kept a tasteful but intimate distance from each other.

Kurt gave him a playful look before he sang, "Something you wanted to do all your life."

Blaine raised a triangular eyebrow in amusement before following the lyric up with the next. "There's no more waiting; tonight is the night."

"And we can't be wrong, not if it feels this right."

"Turn it up!"

"Scream it loud!

"Yeah!" They both finished together, ignoring the rest of the song when their chests touched. Neither one of them realized that they'd been unconsciously moving their heads closer together. Blaine stared at Kurt's lips for a moment, flicking his hazel eyes up to Kurt's glasz ones before flicking back down again. Kurt licked his lips purposely, moving his head that much closer to Blaine's.

Then, right before their lips could brush against each other…

***SCREEEEEEEECH***

The men jumped at the sudden noise. The music cut off, and the colored lights flickered out as well, leaving the club pitch black. Murmurs and shouts of confusion started echoing in the room; Blaine gripping onto what was hopefully Kurt's hand in the darkness.

"Kurt?"

"I'm here."

"Good."

Suddenly, the over-lights flicked on and Blaine sighed in relief when he realized that the hand he was holding was indeed Kurt's. Though, before he said a word to Kurt, more screeching was heard throughout the club. Needless to say, people in 'The Pinn Up' were becoming annoyed.

Puck's voice could be heard through the club's speakers. "Uh…haha…well, our DJ is obviously experiencing a bit of technical difficulties at the moment. Just give us a minute and we will get this place hopping once again! Don't go anywhere!"

Kurt frowned at the panicked look he saw on his friend's face, watching as he jumped off the stage and rushed back behind the DJ turntable. He turned to Blaine, "Let's see if we can help."

Blaine nodded, holding onto Kurt's hand as they pushed their way through the crowd of people. He even frowned as some of them just threw their hands up and exited the club. This is not good. Not good at all.

"The fuck happened here?" Puck whispered harshly, trying to keep his voice down for the sake of the customers.

The DJ pressed buttons and flipped switches frantically, trying to find the problem. "I don't know! The music just cut off. I did a check on everything earlier today and we were all good. I don't—I just don't know!"

A sudden spark shocked the young DJ's hand, "FUCK!"

Jake and Ryder chose that moment to join Puck. "Bro, what happened?"

"Does it look like I know?!" Puck growled.

Jake shrunk back at his brother's anger, pissed off Puck was always a bad place to be. The DJ decided to answer, "I think one of the wires might have gotten messed up during the night."

When another spark zapped, Jake said, "Looks more someone cut a wire."

Kurt snorted, "Why would anyone do something stupid like that?"

Blaine and Jake shared a look between them, not at all thinking that this was a coincidence.

Puck huffed, "I don't fucking care who, what, where, when, why right now. I just want to know if you can fix it, and fast."

The DJ sighed agitatedly, "All depends on what the problem actually is, and if I have the right means to fix it."

"Fine. Jake, can you help him?"

Jake nodded, "I gotcha."

Puck rubbed his hands over his face, "Fuck, what am I gonna do in the mean time? These people aren't just going to wait around without any means of entertainment." He mumbled to himself.

"Well, I have an idea."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and all turned to look at Blaine in surprise. Puck narrowed his eyes, "What did you just say?"

"I said…I have an idea."

* * *

A/N: First song: Selena Gomez 'Slow Down.' Second: Robin Thicke's 'Give it 2 U.' Third: Ke$ha's 'I Only Wanna Dance With You.' And Last: Rihanna's 'Right Now.'

Feel free to yell at me for confusing you more. As long as its in a review, Please and Thank You! ;D And I promise Kurt's past will be revealed later.


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